Nice guitar. Really dope sound. Nice work and well recorded.

What was going on here xD The breakdown literally ate me

Amusingly powerful with a creative and enjoyable production

From the album ‘Trust No Leaders’ by The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara. Released July 1, 2022. 

// The Chefs Song
'The Chefs Song' is a satirical vaudeville that dramatises the pressures of working in a busy kitchen. What the theatrical comedy of the song belies  is a sinister truth, a tragedy that plagues our modern societies — the prevalence of modern slavery in the 21st century.

According to a study by the Human Trafficking  Foundation (2018): More than 1 in 10 people who work in hospitality in the world are reported to be working under modern slavery conditions. For far too long, this has remained hidden from the public eye — behind the closed doors of some kitchens, hotels, and restaurants.

Cover artwork image courtesy of Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 

______________________________

// Purchase ‘Trust No Leaders‘ Album CD + Digital Download:
▸ tcomas.com/trust-no-leaders

// Stream album on all platforms:
▸ tcomas.ffm.to/trustnoleaders
______________________________

LYRICS

Ladies and gentlemen
Culinary connoisseurs
Welcome to our special
Evening Supper Club

Tonight we have a special guest appearance
From an award winning chef
Not to be missed

Before we begin
Could everyone please
Leave their opinions and children at the cloakroom
‘Cos no one wants to hear them, really

I don't want to overcook
I don't want to overcook
I don't want to overcook

This evening's menu
Features only the finest and freshest
Locally sourced produce

For starters
We have the exquisite foie gras
From the liver of our kitchen porter, Gary

Chop chop
Underpaid labour
Wash your hands
First In
First Out
You are, useless

Is there any way you could make this pudding less conservative
Excuse me, do you speak American
No, salt is not a vegetable and you cannot have fries with that

Everything is funny
Until you
Become dinner

Revenge’s
A dish best served cold
But don’t wait too long
Or it will get
Old

I don't want to overcook
I don't want to overcook
I don't want to overcook

What appears to be the issue here
Er, I think I'll have the braised Boris Johnson, actually

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�  About The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara

Hailed as ‘pioneers of a new form of expression’ through the performance of poetry in music, The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara (TCOMAS) are a UK-based duo comprising Daphne Ang (Singapore) and Andrea Papi (Italy), who came together in London in early 2020 to record their debut album, Full Spectrum, released on 26 Feb 2021. Breaking new ground in the way they combine progressive music, poetry, and vision, TCOMAS fills a gap in music by bringing literature, theatre, and history, fusing rock and metal, with poetry performance. Their sophomore album, Trust No Leaders, is due to arrive on July 1, 2022.

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Connect With The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara
‣ Official Website: https://tcomas.com
‣ Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2V3zzIcq2sbRbaEjbGypc8
‣ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tcomas.music
‣ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tcomasmusic
‣ Twitter: https://twitter.com/tcomasmusic

© 2021 The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara /TCOMAS Music
#TheChefsSong #TrustNoLeaders #TheChroniclesofManimalandSamara #TCOMAS

Trust No Leaders

The Chefs Song

⚡️Buy Album⚡️

“Soul Hunt” is one of the most direct and visceral tracks on the album — a relentless vision of unseen warfare, where human souls are the prize in an eternal struggle between forces far greater than ourselves. Based on one of my oldest lyrics ever written, the song captures a world drenched in fear and metaphysical violence. Peace is yearned for but never found.

The verses paint a bleak picture: “It’s all over” declares one line; “Bloodstained icons weep in woe” ends another. These aren’t just poetic images — they’re cries from a world where fragile human lives are tossed into a cosmic battleground beyond comprehension. The music echoes this turmoil with razor-sharp, old-school thrash metal riffing, driving the message home with unrelenting force.

At its heart, “Soul Hunt” forms the eschatological core of the album — a dark framework where the sacred collides with the violent. The Latin chorus, “Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna” (“Deliver me, O Lord, from eternal death”), taken from the Roman Catholic Office of the Dead, becomes more than a liturgical chant. It’s a desperate plea for endurance, for grace, for something to hold onto in the face of annihilation.

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SOUL HUNT

A star fell blazing, torn from the sky,
Ghostfire flickers, years burn dry.
Lunatic echoes are tearing the spheres,
Behind steel gates, the enemy appears.

He winks at me with a hollow stare –
A pupil-less gaze, a frozen glare.
"Come with me," he speaks to me, "behold!
We'll walk in the void like the gods of the old!"

Bell tolls crash on the lead-gray land,
The last fires go out, lost in the sand.
It’s all over – we fade in the tide, 
abandoned island, fortress denied.

Life’s breath is stolen, I drink from the still,
degusting the wine that the ages spill.
Spare me, O Lord, from the hunter’s chase,
Grant me, O Father, a night of grace!

Libera me Domine
de morte eterna! 
(Deliver me, O Lord, 
from eternal death)

The forest echoes from the hunting cries,
Dark shadows creep where the lost souls lie.
A soul hunt is raging deep down below,
bloodstained icons weep in woe.

Horror Sacri

Soul Hunt

Like a nebula dissolving into the void, it lingers with cosmic grace.

Nebula

Read-read-read
note-note-note
footnote the soul of a mole in a coat
Ink-ink-ink
scratch-scratch-scratch
argue ‘bout the meaning of the word dispatch
Mark-mark-mark
quote-quote-quote
stack your sources ‘til the shelves revolt

Our coffee’s black as our funding gap
our deadlines bend like a yoga map
We publish thoughts no one will heed
but glory’s in the planted seed

Work-work-work, until the thought gets weird
debate the length of an unseen beard
Draft-draft-draft, then tear the page
we’re the chorus and the cage

We mine in texts nobody reads
stacking scrolls like ancient reeds
A grant’s a dragon guarding lore
you flatter it, it gives you more

Work-work-work, till the candles die
rewrite the truth with a scholar’s lie
Proof-proof-proof till the moon’s been spun
and toast to the joy of the kingdom of Some

Ink-stained hands and a mind half-mad
argue with ghosts you never had
Measure the weight of a metaphor’s bone
and carve your thesis into stone

Trade your hours for immortal lines
digging through dust for half-formed signs
Argue ‘til dawn on a point obscure
declare the riddle “still unsure”

Who holds the key to the scholar’s vault?
"We do! We do! It’s all our fault!"
Who stacks the scrolls ‘til the shelves cave in?
"We do! We do! Let the work begin!"

Push-push-push the ink along
sing-sing-sing the unwritten song
laugh-laugh-laugh at the scholar’s jest
then bind it in the Book of Rest
Dig-dig-dig through the dusty mind
find-find-find what the rest won’t find

Work-work-work, until the thought gets weird
debate the length of an unseen beard
Draft-draft-draft, then tear the page
we’re the chorus and the cage

And when the ink runs dry at last
we drink to the future
and footnote the past
Read-read-read
Write-write-write

Work-work-work, until the thought gets weird
debate the length of an unseen beard
Draft-draft-draft, then tear the page
we’re the chorus and the cage

Work-Work-Work

One of my longest improvisations, so far. Probably the most intense one, too. I am absorbing and reflecting the rapidly changing atmosphere in our world. It is getting more and more hostile and dark. We should try to change this. I feel helpless and I begin to worry about our future. 

Improvisation_180925_This is our World

Everything is fine
until you speak

They raised the flag, they lit the torch
they swore the words were free
But every time a tongue gets scorched
I hear the lock turn on the key

We all chant "Say what you want!" at the rally
until the echo rattles back through the alley
Freedom's cheap when it's your own creed
but your neighbor's truth feels like a weed

You clap for voices that sing your song
but plug your ears when they prove you wrong

You want the right to shout
but not the right to doubt
Freedom of speech
until you speak
You'll fight for the megaphone
until it cuts your bone
Freedom of speech
until you speak

They'll frame your words on a courtroom wall
but whisper "Censor him" down the hall
Heroes of principle, fists held high
until your sentence crosses their sky

The saints, the critics, the kings of the stage
they write their sermons and call it courage
But when a word strikes too close to home
suddenly silence becomes their throne

Do you want truth
or just a mirror?
Do you want freedom
or something nearer?
A cage with your anthem carved in stone
but bars that slam when it's not your own!

Every tongue's a loaded gun
but only yours is aimed for fun

You want the right to shout
but not the right to doubt
Freedom of speech
until you speak
You'll fight for the megaphone
until it cuts your bone
Freedom of speech
until you speak

They said the words were free
but every word has a fee

Until You Speak

Paper Airplanes

I'm putting the words here because, as is so often with rock, I can barely understand the singers' words ... and I wrote them! 🤔
 
Who could with just mere words describe
The dark deeps of the wisdom you bestow
On those who leave their fears behind
To meet you in your realm below.

Without the dark, there can be no growth. 
Seeds cannot germinate in the light. 
The great lord Pluto hears all those 
for whom the usual darts and slights
of human suffering 
are as nothing, compared 
to the unbearable lightness of being. 

At your Dark Majesty’s request
We lay this dedication at your feet.
The Lord of the Underworld, no less,
Our offering's here at your behest.

Who could with just mere words describe
The dark deeps of the wisdom you bestow
On those who leave their fears behind
To meet you in your vast realm below.

Who could count the blessings you rain
On the lives of those who understand
That with rebirth, like birth, comes pain
And suffering we must withstand.

At your Dark Majesty’s request
We lay your names at your holy feet.
Pluto, Arawn, Set, Shiva,
Hades, Pan and Gwyn ap Nudd.

Pluto

Eden

Lyrics:
[Verse 1]
I chased the light until it died
Built my future on a lie
Every plan I made turned cold
Now I’m left with what I sold

[Pre-Chorus]
Pages burn, the hours fade
I drown in all the mess I made
Still I’m standing, barely whole
Just the ashes of control

[Chorus]
All my dreams broke under me
Crushed by my own gravity
I gave it all, but lost my flame
Now I’m tired of this game
Every promise, every fight
Falling apart in sleepless nights

[Verse 2]
The walls are close, the noise too loud
I wear a smile to please the crowd
But in my head, the silence screams
Nothing’s left of what I dreamed

[Bridge]
I used to burn, I used to rise
Now I just watch the fire die
Maybe tomorrow I’ll rebuild
But tonight I can’t, I’m still

[Chorus – Final]
All my dreams broke under me
Crushed by my own gravity
I gave it all, but lost my flame
And I’ve got no one else to blame
Let it rain, let it freeze
Dreams don’t bleed — they just leave

Dreams Don’t Bleed

Deadweight Angel

— ОRIĢINS —
New Album • Out Now
Listen: https://ffm.to/origins-album

Origins, the third album by The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara, is out now.

The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara (TCOMAS), a UK-based duo featuring Daphne Ang (Singapore) and Andrea Papi (Italy), emerged in London in early 2020. Their debut album, Full Spectrum, established their innovative fusion of poetry performance and heavy music, creating a unique form of expression that has become synonymous with TCOMAS.
TCOMAS's sophomore album, Trust No Leaders, released on July 1, 2022, explores the history of metal, paying tribute to various subgenres. Set against orchestral and cinematic landscapes, the songs also incorporate non-Western musical influences. The lyrics draw inspiration from contemporary and classical poetry, as well as Jungian psychology.

https://tcomas.com

The Chefs Song

The Chronicles of Manimal and Samara

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