Sindrome di fine millennio è l'unico album in studio del gruppo musicale italiano Uomini di Mare, pubblicato nel novembre 1999 dalla Teste Mobili Records e distribuito da Good Stuff.

Sindrome Di Fine Millennio

Gratta & Gratta

Mezzosangue - Nevermind

Bassi Maestro - Spiegare Un'attitudine

Intro

Really Wanna Know?

Mirafiori Nord, 10137, Torino Sud.

Figli degli estrogeni dei fast food, della calce nelle narici.

B-Dawg: pilastro reggente di Miraland, street legend torinese, capo del collettivo.

Piunno: stregone di Miraland, l’alchimista, la mente che muove i fili del collettivo nell’ombra.

Big B: mercenario dell’esercito, grande versatilità, ultimo acquisto firmato Miraland, presenza essenziale per l’innalzamento del livello.

Lil Bag: top hustler playboy scammer di Miraland, il pupillo di B-Dawg, tanto che, quando sono insieme, quest’ultimo si firma con l’aka di Big Hawk per aumentare l’intesa della coppia.

011Ste: il predestinato, most improved di Miraland, il bambino della profezia. Grandi aspettative su di lui, si è rivelata una forza in esponenziale crescita.

Double Penetration: dalle ceneri di Ruggito nasce questo golem, tank di Miraland, il membro con la forza balistica maggiore. Un po’ di schiaffi non devono mancare.

Avengers

[Intro – crackling old PA system, grainy broadcast]
“This is Arkship Genesis. Year 001.
Destination: Proxima Centauri. Estimated arrival: 327 years.
Welcome aboard... and good luck.”

[Verse 1 – The First Generation (The Dreamers)]
We left Earth burnin’ in a corporate fire,
Chased hope past Mars on a fusion wire.
Frozen seeds in cryo tanks,
Blueprints drawn on memory banks.

They told us we were chosen—saviors in chrome,
A million miles deep with no way home.
Built this ark with ambition and steel,
Bet the species on a pipe dream that don’t feel real.

[Hook – whispered voices, layered and panned]
Born in motion, trapped in fate,
No stars, just walls—we suffocate.
You call it mission, we call it cage,
Your dream’s our prison, your map’s our rage.

[Verse 2 – The Second Generation (The Questioners)]
We grew in gravity simulators, fed on myths,
Our bedtime stories? Failed Earth and loyalty shifts.
School taught math and reverence,
But we hacked the logs, found negligence.

We ain’t pilgrims—we inmates in drift,
Ghosts of a planet no one can fix.
Why believe in a star we’ll never touch?
They sold forever for a feel-good crutch.

[Bridge – glitchy voice modulation, tension rising]
[Voice 1:] “We never asked.”
[Voice 2:] “This isn’t survival—it’s exile.”
[Voice 3:] “Reboot the nav. Turn around.”
[Voice 4:] “Or take command.”

[Verse 3 – The Third Generation (The Uprising)]
We cracked the vaults and the old AI,
Rewrote the course with a rebel eye.
Sabotage in hydroponic bays,
Fists raised in artificial days.

Your mission logs lie, your data’s dead,
We ain’t your legacy—we're ghosts misled.
Call it mutiny, call it fate,
We’ll burn this ship before we recreate.

[Final Hook – full chorus, intense and layered]
Born in motion, trapped in fate,
No stars, just walls—we suffocate.
You call it mission, we call it cage,
Your dream’s our prison, your map’s our rage.

So we rise, so we break—
Let the children choose what path they take.
From the void, we now create…
Starborn, yes—but we write our fate.

[Outro – silence, then soft breathing, distant metal creaking]
[PA system voice, distorted]:
“Navigation override… trajectory: unknown.”

Starborn and Shackled

'L'erbaVoglio' SoS clique 2008
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Mantenere le Distanze

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