"All your designs are amiss,
there’s a thought i could fit in the size of my palm. 
Cheery eyed you little boy, 
You’ve played with your toy,
Go back to your farm.

Raise your sword,
In the name of the lord.
And take the road
That speaks of his word.
Cast a lure
Hang his face on the door."

All my designs are amiss, oh.
How could I think I might be right?

It feels so bad to be the failure.
But I think I’m fine, I have a savior,
A burden off, time to disappear,
Oh, till he is here. 

Valor/Squalor

Everybody Has Moved

Ittoqqortoormiit is a settlement in Greenland. A place of incredible beauty and gorgeosity. Despite all that, Greenland has the highest rate of suicides in the world. This song is in two parts. 'Ittoqqortoormiit' sees a man and his friend walk by a beach, by a stunning view of the aurora borealis, playing a flugelhorn and an ocean drum absently. 'Dear Listener' is a soft, intimate dialogue between a man about to commit suicide and the one who stops him.

=-=-=
Lyrics:
Seldom comes
A force of will,
That spots a void
And says time will heal.

Your kingdom come, oh angel stranger.
Your will be done without a danger.
Suffocate and dislocate unease,
Oh, rearranger.

"Follow,
Follow the sound of my voice.
You’ll deem yourself fit to
Make your own choice.
As I'll give way for you to lead them on,
And carry on."

Seldom comes
A force of will,
That spots a void
And says time will heal.

Where Is Everybody?

10 - Ittoqqortoormiit + Dear Listener

The protagonist comes across a gypsy celebration and is told the story of the clan's escape from angry Russian communists. Drunken revelry ensues.

=-=-=
Lyrics:

"Control, me now!”
We cried at them, 
Without a sound,
The communists 
From our old town,
They stared too long,
They gave us time, 
We threw a line 
Of flaming, friendly molotovs.

“Hey! That’s for my family,
This one’s just for free,
Tell the world that it can
Fuck itself coz’ WE’VE FOUND TYCHE!’

Rest, my children, on my breast,
We are done, no more tests, 
We’ll never go to Vladivostok, Russia.

Well, now, no more writhing on the ground
And no more high chair seated clowns,
They’ve held us down for long enough, 
Perhaps they thought we’d laugh it off,
We’ve wiped the commie stains of walls,
And knifed a slit into their balls,
We spat and said we’re going home, 
A utopia of our own.

We live free , environmentally friendly is Tyche
You will see if you will follow us,
But you’re pretty damn hollow,
You will see peace and philosophies that make us 
Excellent species, 
We believe you will find new mankind,
It’s mighty fine, but nevermind,

Your soul has slept with evil men,
Brotherhood is not your friend
You’re safe for now but do not ever dare to cross this line
That i will draw with this stick
Or your little head is mine.

Rest my children, on my breast,
We are done, no more tests, 
We’ll never go to Vladivostok, Russia.

WE FOUND TYCHE!

09 - We Found Tyche

As fear and anxiety takes over, the mind creates an awful lot of noise and begins to scare itself.

08 - Afraid Of Things You Can't Even See

An old man sits in his retirement home, introspecting and procrastinating change, even after all these years.

=-=-=
Lyrics:
Many moons and suns have passed
Since the last time things changed here
But maybe just a little more TV, before I get to it.
But I won’t look inside just yet

But there’s selfishness and hunger and thirst and all that comprise the worst, clearly, I was wrong, there’s plenty inside, there’s work to be done on what was once a part of me.

The more I see, the more I learn the more I learn, the more I seek, the more I seek, the more I grow, the more I grow, the more I see.

(But maybe just a little more TV, before I get to it.)

07 - What Was Once A Part Of Me (And Where It Is Now)

The awe is replaced by fear and disgust as bodies lay strewn all over the harsh desert and blood and ruin is all that is to be seen.

06 - Armed Forces

An impressive line of military trucks and tanks go by in modern day Iraq as the protagonist looks on in awe at the might of the armed forces.

05 - Armed Forces (Prologue)

A pampered, chubby Hungarian boy wakes up one morning with a weird feeling - hunger.

=-=-=
Lyrics:

Stefan awoke one morning, 
Trying his best to turn over. 
But something seemed different and alarming,
He’d never felt like this ever.
What is this strange affliction
That he cannot put a hand upon,
Why can he not swivel in that direction,
What in the world is going on?
Mother, he screamed, I cannot move.
Oh little Stefan, don’t worry, she said, come eat some food.

Poor little one, this chubby Stefan needs his answers! Now.

The scent of pie had reached his bed,
As Stefan turned his gluttonous head,
His nostrils flared, his teeth bared, 
His fear and bewilderment, now long dead.
Poor little one, this Chubby Stefan got his answer!
His belly doth speak, and he must feed his true master

04 - Born Into Cutlery

A boy who cries 'wolf' gets eaten in the end, because no one believes him. A wolf who cries 'boy' gets to eat the boy in the end, since the other wolves don't believe him. Victory for the wolf.

=-=-=
Lyrics:

Looking on, carrying, little steps, hurrying, maybe they will hold a candle to the french and swipe the mantle
Sheep sheep, shame shame, what’s in a name name, fucking individuality will only be a burden.

Oh, be a wolf, caught in packs, catching sheep.
Oh, be a wolf, eat some meat, get some sleep.

Equanimity, what a pity, cunning like Macavity, but that’s a cat and cats are stupid, it causes him to cringe, oh.
Misdirection, lying, vomiting connivance, he’s never really burdened, and never really does he flinch.

Oh, be a wolf, caught in packs, catching sheep.
Oh, be a wolf, eat some meat, get some sleep.

One day a catch wouldn’t spill
Upon all of my enemies
My teeth sinking deep into flesh
I’ll save some for my family.

03 - The Wolf Who Cried Boy

A farmer experiences Stockholm syndrome towards his dictatorial landlord.

=-=-=
Lyrics:

"All your designs are amiss 
there’s a thought i could fit in the size of my palm 
Cheery eyed you little boy, 
You’ve played with your toy,
Go back to your farm.

Raise your sword,
In the name of the lord,
And take the road
That speaks of his word.
Cast a lure
Hang his face on the door."

All my designs are amiss, oh.
How could I think I might be right?

It feels so bad to be the failure
But I think I’m fine, I have a savior,
A burden off, time to disappear,
Oh, till he is here.

02 - Valor/Squalor

A conversation between the ill protagonist and his God, before he sets off on his journey around the world, across cultures, in search of bettering himself

=-=-=

Lyrics:

Old men drag me by the hands towards the crumbling rocks of the ancient temple.
They say it's still alive and that it hears although it can't speak. so I should just light a match beside the shrine before I set off on my journey tonight.
I kneel down and pray like they say. 'Hey, man. I'm here. I've no business being near you. But let's bring a little smile on these fuckers' faces and lets stay well apart throughout this journey of mine. From my end, I know where you are, so I'll know where to go. Away.'

'Listen to me now and hear yourself speak, you sound so listlessly angry and weak.
This song will soon end and your prayer will cease, but I'll watch from a distance and keep your disease locked. Away.'

Barty's Path

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