This track open our cd, it is the start .... enjoy 

Falsos dias

This track is the main theme of our cd, It is the Odissey!!! What is religion, what is true?

Precisamos Aprender a Navegar no Caos

This track speaks about the duality of our socity, who has and who doesn't! It is a question, what am I?

O que eu sou

Se ela não me ouvir

Instrumental music, the las track of our cd is a unic travel. Just close your eyes and put up the volume. I'm quite sure you will enjoy!

A conciencia do Mao

Reditus Ulysses

A Nova Ordem

Futuro do Preterito

Pros que não tem

Leman Lake

I) Distorted images - words that catalyse our deepest sense of revolt against a world obsessed with image. A time when ignorance and violence are one and the same: cogs in the machine grinding towards what is sold to us as peace. It is this that brings us a deep melancholy of a past that we did not see coming. The northern lights’ colours are no longer the same. The people, atomised barcodes, march on regardless, maintaining the same rhythm, inconsistent and slow, each of them to their fate. Predators are camouflaged by their habitudinal banality – through popular media they are invited into our homes daily to assault the collective psyche with shameless revisionism and propaganda. “Yes” is but a refuge for the weak and obsequious. 

We are opposed to this filthy iniquity, legitimised and shielded by this democratic dictatorship, and which emanates from a poverty of opportunity. Indifference makes us ever more invisible and insensitive to pain. Love has become a strange and distant word, and so we try to survive by taking advantage of every instant we have left. Why is it that others fail to share this interpretation?

II) As the barcodes stomp toward us, endeavours to define in words what we promulgate and yearn for are futile. Suppressed, we are left to fester in our own discomfort; this seeming helplessness, augmented by the wilful conformism of the people, represents a torture we must bear, since it defines everything we are not. You are the masters of this endless winter being perpetuated through our time, but we survive with the warmth of our creative thoughts, creating an existential paradox. It is this energy which propels this lonely movement against a predictable and yet inviolable system. Embracing metaphor, we perform this little song out of tune for all the boys who gradually get lost along the path of confusion and pseudo-slavery. A path designed by our betters; betters who toast one another with cocktails of wine and petroleum; toasting to the success of this fable of democracy, where the losers are the slaves of this great colony. Numbers and only numbers are to which they restrict us ... 

Numbers and numbers ...

Infinite are the differences ...

How can one see purpose in such an avaricious and destructive breed of mammal?

One that enslaves and kills itself in the name of progress?

Our future is certain if we continue like this: all of us, and all those of the next generation, shall lose the most important battle – the battle of memory. Defeat is rewarded with nothing, and it edges closer, each time we forget to remember. 

                                                                                          "Felix que potuit rerum cognoscere causas"



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