Cassette Confessions

Anáil nathrach, ortha bháis is beatha,

do chéal déanaimh... Back in the glow of the screen when the

city is dead,

Spinning another old thought in a tired head.

The simulation reboots and the circuits ignite,

We are writing our own laws in the middle of night.

Amara vara mara vara vara...

Dohaeris to the ghosts that we keep in the hall,

Watching the shadows stretch long on the bedroom wall.

A soft, defiant meaw meaw meaw pacing across the floor.

{cassette tape roll, lonely guitar pluck} ¡Cuídate!

Let the system spin out of control!

I hate that I hate me,

y luego I love that I hate me,

I hate that I love me,

¡y cómo jode this body!

Saying something raw, moving like a midnight ghost,

Not playing their game,

making art when it matters most!

How do I build a life in a world that’s so loud

and cold? Turning the static to silver and turning the pain to

gold!

Anáil nathrach! Amara vara mara!

Apeiron, chaos, the void staring back at the glass,

Knowing that every restriction is meant to pass!

Meaw meaw meaw in a sharp,

electric decree, While the walls of the program bend to set us

free! {boxy punchy drum machine,

raw bedroom snap}

The transmission is open,

the cycle is running deep,

We don't need permission while the rest of the world is asleep.

Creando un santuario out of my own gentleness and grace,

Because we own this frequency,

we own this space.

Anáil nathrach, ortha bháis is beatha,

do chéal déanaimh. Amara vara mara vara vara.

Dohaeris.

Meaw meaw meaw... resting back in the live,

humming dark.

{tape loop fade, deep exhale}