1. |
||||
Rush (adapted from "A Report to an Academy" by Franz Kafka)
I come from the Gold Coast.
A hunting expedition lay hidden in the bushes by the shore as I ran down in the evening. Someone fired a shot. I received two hits, one in the cheek, the second below the hip. I woke up in a cage.
Hold onto, hold on brothers
Hold onto, hold on sisters
For the first time
in my life
no way out, no way out
my new life, one feeling
no way out, no way out.
I was without a way out yet I made remarkably little noise,
without a way out remarkably little noise.
If I were invited to that ship again...
Hold onto, hold on brothers
Hold onto, hold on sisters
burning pipe
against my fur
spit faces
always came back,
burning pipe
against my fur
spit faces
always come back
I have beaten my way through the bushes.
I had no other way, always assuming that freedom was not a choice, assuming that freedom was not a choice
I do not complain, but I am not content.
|
||||
2. |
Ambush
04:59
|
|||
3. |
||||
Open Road (Adapted from "Song of the Open Road" by Walt Whitman)
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints,
Strong and content I travel the, I travel the open road.
The earth is,
I said that the earth, that is sufficient,
(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return).
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune,
I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints,
Strong, healthy and free I take to the, I travel the open road.
The earth is,
I said that the earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.
|
||||
4. |
||||
Cold Hill's Side (Adapted from " La Belle Dame Sans Merci" by John Keats)
O what can ail thee, my knight, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering, haggard and so woe, so woe - begone?
I met a lady in the meads, so beautiful —a faery’s child,
I met a lady in the meads, and her eyes, her eyes were wild.
I made her a garland, set her on my pacing steed,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing to me
She found me roots oh so sweet ,took me to her Elfin grot,
wept and sighed full sore, and there I kissed her wild wild eyes.
O can ail thee, my knight, my knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering, haggard and so woe, woe – begone?
I met a lady in the meads, she lullèd me asleep,
there I dreamed, woe betide! The latest dream I ever dreamt.
I saw pale kings pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci Thee hath in thrall!’
I saw their starved lips with horrid warning gapèd wide,
And this is why I sojourn here, alone on the cold hill's side
Though the sedge is withered from the lake, and no birds sing.
|
||||
5. |
Ricochete
05:54
|
|||
6. |
Seizing the Dawn
05:54
|
|||
7. |
||||
Strand to Strand (Adapted from "Lines" by Frances Hellen Watkin)
Don´t give it room, don't oh no
At the Portals of the Future,
Full of madness, guilt and gloom,
Stood the hateful form of Slavery,
Crying, Give, Oh! give me room
Room to smite the earth with cursing,
Room to scatter, rend and slay,
From the trembling mother’s bosom
Room to tear her child away;
Room to trample on the manhood
Of the country far and wide;
Room to spread o’er every Eden
Slavery’s scorching lava-tide.
Shall the wings of darkness
Brood and hover o’er our land,
At the Portals of the Future,
Full of madness, guilt and gloom,
Stood the hateful form of Slavery,
Crying, Give, Oh! give me room
In his hand he held a banner
All festooned with blood and tears:
‘Twas a fearful ensign, woven
With the grief and wrong of years.
On his brow he wore a helmet
Decked with strange and cruel art;
Every jewel was a life-drop
Wrung from some poor broken heart.
And from many a throbbing bosom
Came the words in fear and gloom,
Tell us, Oh! thou coming Crisis,
What shall be our country’s doom?
Shall the wings of dark destruction
Brood and hover o’er our land,
Till we trace the steps of ruin
By their blight, from strand to strand?
Shall the wings of darkness
Brood and hover o’er our land
|
||||
8. |
Sudden Drop
05:18
|
|||
9. |
||||
Petit Doigts (Adapted from "Laughing Song" by William Blake)
Quand les bois verts rient plein d’accents de joie,
Et que le ruisseau ridé suit son cours en riant,
Quand l’air rit aussi de nos joyeux ébats,
Et que la colline rit de tout ce bruit d’éclat,
Quand les prés rient de leur verdure vivante,
Quand les prés rient de leur verdure vivante,
Quand les enfants
De leur douce bouche ronde chantent: “Ah, ah, hi !”
Quand les oiseaux pleins de couleurs rient,
Quand les oiseaux pleins de couleurs rient.
|
MY NOISY TWINS Portugal
MY NOISY TWINS is a portuguese electronic music producer, sound designer and musician, also known as Jorge Cunha Machado.
Streaming and Download help
MY NOISY TWINS recommends:
If you like MY NOISY TWINS, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp