Halcyon days are not a thing
Nostalgia is an excuse for stupidity
I don't believe in golden ages
Or presidents that put kids in cages
America awaits on bended knee
Can't you see?
Sweet children, Locke's burden
Why did mother draw the curtains?
Free will is your dilemma (What will the dust remember?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
Utopia is an opiated dream
What we want is an open society
One torn and frayed at the edges
With pages of imperfect changes
And every hallmark of rationality
Can't you see?
Sweet children, Locke's burden
Why did mother draw the curtains?
Free will is your dilemma (What will the dust remember?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
At the end of history nobody will be innocent
Of naked crimes against eternity
Now we're in the last second of our December
Tell me how do you want to be remembered?
For generosity or a fucking monstrosity?
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
Nostalgia is an excuse for stupidity
I don't believe in golden ages
Or presidents that put kids in cages
America awaits on bended knee
Can't you see?
Sweet children, Locke's burden
Why did mother draw the curtains?
Free will is your dilemma (What will the dust remember?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
Utopia is an opiated dream
What we want is an open society
One torn and frayed at the edges
With pages of imperfect changes
And every hallmark of rationality
Can't you see?
Sweet children, Locke's burden
Why did mother draw the curtains?
Free will is your dilemma (What will the dust remember?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
At the end of history nobody will be innocent
Of naked crimes against eternity
Now we're in the last second of our December
Tell me how do you want to be remembered?
For generosity or a fucking monstrosity?
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
(At the end of history?)
Tell me where (Where?) do you really want to be
At the end of history?
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Album: Age of Unreason
La domanda chiave si nasconde nell’intensissima “End Of History”: At the end of history nobody will be innocent/Of naked crimes against eternity/Tell me how do you want to be remembered/For generosity or a fucking monstrosity? Quando la storia sarà finita, quando anche questo periodo di mortificante disumanità sarà solo un ricordo, saremo ricordati come persone generose o deplorevoli mostri? Un quesito che ci fa riflettere, ci fa male e ci colpisce. Come una pietra. Come un pianeta. Come una fottuta bomba atomica.
dalla recensione di Giuseppe Loris Ienco su IFB - Indie For Bunnies