lirik lagu a. s. m. (a state of mind) - war
[narrator]
faces frozen with pride, guts knotted by fear
kingdoms keepers’ rank and file
born to die as the flag flies high
[shalim]
it’s been a few days since we slept
on a lone road that never ends
a war heaven sent
so they say in the ranks under general rongon’s reign
my mind drifts away, while my feet obey
the rhythm of the war drums night and day
but why this way? why weapons?
marching for weeks, i don’t see where the threat is
[narrator]
blind in belief, seduced by athena
flood of the m-sses, troops of medina
courtship, war dance
weeks roll by as the ranks advance
drums pound relentless
age old mating call of the trenches
forth! onward the regiment
fossils bleed in the rock face sediment
faces frozen with pride, guts knotted by fear
enemy on the horizon
no more turning back pup, its live and let die
are you wolf or a mere sheep?
now or never, man up!
[shalim]
pull the steel out the sheath, scope the tree line
boulders are flying for the first time from our catapults
inadequately placed in the center, me
trying to find illys in this chaos unsuccessfully
not to mention sense in this burst of moments
in self-defense bringing ends to bangali soldiers
they’re coming at me faster than a cobra
but “ching” goes the swing of my sword and it’s over
i fear for my flesh, hence the blood on my hands
and the countless men with no heads for their shoulders
but no regret, best to live than be dead
in a bangali riverbed left for the vultures
[narrator]
many men fall to the wrath of the broad sword
natural warlord
moves like water made a pact with poseidon
trance-like dance let his instincts guide him
blinks, dives in, warrior within him
swimming easily as the blood-lust takes hold
found the sound of the slice quite satisfying
ends shit quick with the blade to the throat
only 16 but his mind is old
and when he’s on the front line his warm heart turns cold
another foe deceased another story is told
seminal, even caught the eye of the general
[shalim]
and then it strikes me, lightning
is this who we’re meant to be fighting?
with iron-forged weapons and blessings of titans
stick waving fishermen who bear a lot of likeness
no, there must be more to this
i’ve never seen so much helplessness
and innocence in the face of the children and women
it’s the ways of the tyrant and it’s sick
and i don’t know where illys is
illys man, we gotta go quick
illys!
[narrator]
he feels the body in his arms grow ever more heavy as the life seeps out
hollowness where his friends eyes had been
on the top of the hill, the prodigious form of rongon the king’s heir presides
still intoxicated by the fumes of battle
—–
that night at the camp, light of the lamp
all those that died that day
no sleep would come
his wheezing lungs
so sore and the call of the jungle
feels he could indefinitely hibernate
mind is racing in hyperspace
giving out riddled with doubt
another motherless helpless pebble in the tidal wave
[shalim]
can’t take another sec, can’t break another neck
can’t let a brother go yet
now we are the threat we’re supposed to be opposed to
roll through slaughtering the feeble
first time contemplating evil
bear witness, illys did not die in vein
now, i’m gonna run away
through the forest, new to all this
wield only my sword and my garments
and of course there’s my amulet
i can’t live without it
as if a force bared in the clouded
shade of jade makes the pain be milder
but i’m alone, i’m all alone
[narrator]
he’s a legal murderer, illegal deserter
can’t undo what had been done
so there’s only one way to go
into the sun, gotta run
flight, only ally the night and the stamina
generated by both the fear and the conviction
that he wouldn’t die for fiction’s depictions
[shalim]
heart’s racing, motivation
feeling the breath of the wild dogs chasing
how can they be hungrier than me?
how can i be safe among the trees?
how can the bangali and vabarians live in eternal peace?
so many thoughts cluster my mind
all i wanna know is why did they all die?
[narrator]
reinterpret the texture of the surface
of that which had led ‘em to bow down to rhetoric
a desolate symbol of freedom the hectic
eerie orchestra sends him back to the sorcerer
that he had become when his eyes turned to fireb-lls
burning like inferno
had pleased that beast at the helm
heir to the throne, prince of the realm
rongon! and he couldn’t forget
a little more familiar than he cares to admit
vague flashes of memory stacking up
rush! all seemed new much realer
soul of a monk, sk!lls of a k!ller
[shalim]
finally find my bearing
in a faint drum sound that i’m hearing
try to get near, not fearing
slowly approaching a clearing
i hear cheering, it’s alive
wondering if i can trust my eyes
[narrator]
as the fear subsides
gradually his heart rate starts settling
and what he had though to be the slight of the panic, auditory mirage
was indeed the sound of drums in the distance, hypnotically beckoning
and what was left to lose?
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