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To the awoken (2009)

by Utopia Now

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1.
This is no dream, you don’t sleep, no, it’s all the way it seems. Face the truth you’re reluctant to believe. Every day is a quest, that results in the same effect: You must accept, there’s no scheme behind all this. All that you see is debris from your shattered fantasy. Here you cry amidst the ruins of your lie. Now stand up, feel the wind blow the dust from your sour skin. You’re not dead, there’s an all new world ahead. Chorus: But there’s nothing you can hold on to, nothing but yourself. And nothing can be proven true. So don’t expect help from anywhere else. Bridge I know it’s hard to cope, but there’s always hope, though it may seem hard to find in all the helplessness, confusion, and chaos in your mind. But if you want to be alive and reveal the truth behind then you must realize: Chorus:
2.
Science 01:15
Centuries of work form the fabric of our world. Every second every day ghosts of ages accompany the most routine sub-radar banalities, sweat and hope battling ferocious maladies. Conscious or not, it (science!) runs in our veins! The holy halls of lore keep a shameful past in store. Wisdom, intellect, and truth mutilated and besmirched. We’re disciples in the fane of convenience sacrificing reason for mystical nonsense. Conscious or not, it (religion!) poisons our brains! Science, you trust it every day, when you go from A to B, when avoiding gravity, when facing a disease. It's elegant and light, but sober and forthright, not comforting as night where ignorance can hide.
3.
The painting of the seasons, it's the ultimate Monet, the serenade aquatic, the cetacean ballet, the symphony of avifaunal ensemble in the trees, the poetry of humming prairies in the morning breeze. Chorus: All natural intricacies are so much greater than graceless, unsubtle tricks of some false creator. Bow to something worthy of your awe, splendor grander than art, faith, and law. There's a world in a box and a sea of unbounded majesty. The microscopic jungle in a eukaryotic cell, the sculpturing artistry in a regular seashell, the great millennial temples, the wooden porticos, the metropolitan frenzy in a drop of H2O. Chorus: Those natural complexities are so much greater than graceless, unsubtle tricks of some false creator. Bow to something worthy of your awe, splendor grander than art, faith, and law. There's a world in a box and a sea of unbounded majesty.
4.
The stain 02:05
A dilapidated house like the mind of a simpleton misused, as he returns from a place that exists only in the news. Chorus: He washes his hands thirty times a day. He breaks all the mirrors and sleeps wide awake with chemicals to take the guilt away. Paralyzed and dull from a nightmare of violent noise. Now there's silence, and for the first time he can hear his own voice. Chorus: "But wasn't I authorized? Have I not been absolved?" The guilt is only shared but not a bit dissolved! Bridge: There's no excuse!
5.
Neonates 02:25
And so everything began with an infant's mind overwhelmed by everyday illusions of design. In a void of virgin neurons and unbuilt libraries any postulation stands ever so cogently. Children in their mental cage... Chorus: But all neonates must grow along with what they know and at some point there's just no more excuse. The veil has been removed, this is the age of proof, and I'm not wearing children's shoes! So as the volumes fill the shelves the mystic curtain falls. On the ratiocinative road the engine stalls. The mighty Pegasus is hurting with a broken wing, and our trajectory of growth at best is stagnating. Children long past legal age... Chorus: But all neonates must grow along with what they know and at some point there's just no more excuse. The veil has been removed, this is the age of proof, yet modern man is so obtuse! And all I feel is shame that I am human too. What about you?
6.
One argument too much, another social inability, the slamming of the door, and the following silence. There he stands, pushing the blame away with an unfamiliar feeling of not being in command. What he has from all these years: No lesson learned, and no one to dry these secret tears. Chorus: Here you are, a scorpion that has run out of poison, an old and broken toothless lion, a sparrow in an eagle’s dress, sad anthropoid zoo! And maybe now it’s time to question you. So now once again an unexpected end forces a new beginning on a man so sick and tired. Now he’s left, so desolate and bereft, with petty daily rituals to pretend that he’s ok. All that he makes out of this is more despite and a thicker skin of bitterness. Chorus: Here you are, a lone, abandoned silverback, an alpha male without a pack, a tame sheep in a wild wolf’s skin, sad anthropoid zoo! And maybe now it’s time to question everything you represent and everything you’ve done.
7.
Chronophilia 01:18
Listen in on the whisper of the Pharaoh. Feel the walls of the chamber, uncover their mystery. Roam the ruins, pay reverence to the ancients. Become witness to the greatest of all human legacy. Waking up to a blink in the spotlight, ever racing through eons of void night, just to lie down and sleep in the dragnet of history. There is more to this short moment on the stage. Read the book to make sense of the last page. Only minds that are open to the past will ever fully grasp their own existence.
8.
They said the Rapture was coming but the world is unperturbed, another false prediction but the faith is undisturbed. Yet another bus of pilgrims turns a highway into hell, but the ultimate irony won't suffice to break the spell. Chorus: It takes the power of a desperate mind to ignore the truth and have it realigned to suit the voice inside. Once again the latest fossil shows the theory works fine, but cognitive dissonance has their brains work overtime. The facts amount to glaring incompatibility, but their imaginary friend certifies their fantasy. Chorus: It takes the power of a desperate mind to ignore the truth and have it realigned to suit the voice inside. Bridge: What academic glory! Watch those laboratory mice in a Festingerian experiment that is our lives. Intellectually questionable acts, cowardice at best, show the power of the brain they betray.
9.
Icarian Sea 02:31
An old barren island, a prison to two, and the eyes fixed upon the horizon. The wisdom of age and the follies of youth, and an ocean to overcome. Chorus: And every mile of the journey counts, and every infantile belief amounts to another burden that drags us down into the Icarian Sea. The young boy ignores the portentous tone, and his wings are melting. Somewhere between exile and home the escape comes to a wet end. Chorus: And every mile of the journey counts, and every infantile belief amounts to another burden that drags us down into the Icarian Sea. Bridge: The trap within the brain: The addiction to elation. And a force hard to resist: The sirens' incantations. But the road ahead requires of us to not believe them, and tune our ears instead to the croaky voice of reason.
10.
Bloody pandemonium was all he saw and all he remembered, and it was all that lay ahead. Yet the impetus overshadowed the urge to surrender, as he felt the silver around his neck. Neither the odds that were stacked up against his life, nor the haunting thought of his daughter and his wife could render this man afraid to die. Chorus: Somewhere over the last hill they smell salvation, eons in warm, golden light. Some blue-eyed soldier marches into conflagration, right down into empty night. Right along the lines of a sanguinary old piece of fiction, they subdue and multiply. Belly up runs the blood through the veins to the ocean under a green and yellow sky. Neither the tidal waves and the fiercely shaking ground, nor the hurricanes and glaciers melting down could ever test their logic unsound. Chorus: Somewhere over the last hill a place like Eden awaits them, or so they surmise. The charred fields smolder, Gaia's body, scarred and bleeding. Down goes the real Paradise. Bridge: Absorbed in a dream with closed eyes, as the real world flies by. So de-prioritized, mundane affairs shine in a whole new light. Chrous: On the far side of our last worldly horizon they see a new endless day. They're so fortunate they won't wake to realize that they have thrown their lives away.
11.
There is nothing, no fear in the eye, silently it’s seen so gracefully falling through the place. It’s cemented, engrained in the mind, colors turn to grey. Could ash be the only thing that remains. Chorus: The casting of the shadow that falls. Eclipsing what it known, distorted passive will. Maybe with all that’s been taken and lost tomorrow might pose change. But today the burden is clear, our hands they mark these times. Self-afflicted, the damage we’ve done shows the way we are. Could history repeat itself when we’re gone? Mass-confessions won’t pardon our sins, echoes fill the air. This cancer that spreads like flames in the wind. Chorus: Bridge: This place won’t always keep us warm. Until the day we’re lying cold this goes on. Constructions of Utopia will bring us down in unison. Shed no tears, we all build the pieces.
12.
Winds of ages blow through the mane, early mirrors present one with strangers. A cloudy lifetime inhibits the brain and holds back the step. Every tumbrel of thought bears a lost shard of a self from a time indeterminable. There's a point when one stumbles across the unexplored road ahead. Chorus: Time to shed the ancient load and kick the gear into travel mode. There's just no time to let one day pass unseen. New roads lead to a new horizon. Metamorphic remodeling of existence. Skin is shed, wings are dried in the sun. A new time is near. And suddenly grey suits you very well, and endless, wild nights are so much overrated, and all the world lies in one single cell. Tomorrow is here. Chorus:
13.
Trembling hands paint the priceless china, the mind keeps revolving around gravity. After hours the vase is finished, and Sisyphus cries like a little baby: It took one second to break, and you look at the time it would take to try and get there again, and you wish for: Chorus: A cold heart of stone, sheltered and alone. And no more lives in shards. Shivering hands add another story, the stakes rise and so does the fear of the wind. After hours the card house stands, and Sisyphus cries like a baby again: It took one second to fall, and while numb from the pain you recall the time it took to get there, and you wish for: Chorus: A cold heart of stone, sheltered and alone. And no more stacking cards. Bridge; That which defeats the strongest, that which can start and painfully end a life. Come and gone in a moment, frail as a candle flame in the winds of time. And once all is lost, we all want Chorus: A cold heart of stone, sheltered and alone. And no more shards and cards.

credits

released January 31, 2009

All songs (music/lyrics) written, recorded, and performed by Stephan Serowy, except where stated otherwise.

"Constructing Utopia" (music/lyrics) written by Jonny Strachan, recorded and performed by Stephan Serowy.

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Utopia Now Berlin, Germany

Utopia Now started out in 2006 but had been known under the name Indigo since 2002, sharing the stage with bands such as Lagwagon, Anti Flag, A Wilhelm Scream, No Trigger, Good Clean Fun, Venerea and many more. However, the band was short-lived and split in 2007. Today the band lives on in the form of an online solo project by the band’s founder, singer, and songwriter, Stephan Serowy. ... more

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