1. |
Out of the Womb
02:50
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Looking back to life
What can you tell?
A life that passed you by
Like a sandstorm.
Happy days in childhood
Cannot recall
Nothing but a vicious circle
Going down
You've played your part
In a dull play
A superstar fading
The moment you started
chorus: Out of the womb
Into your tomb
Have you ever wondered
What it would be like
To be the director
Of you own life
What would you have done
What would you have seen
Would you have experienced
True freedom
Could it have been so
Could it have been
Could it have happened that
You'd see the meaning of true life
repeat chorus
Let me surprise you
Let me tell you this
The choices you made
Could have been your own
No matter what people tell you
No matter what they make you think
No matter how hard they try
To make you walk in line
It has always been your choice
To go along with the flow
Live life like an easy go
Live life like it's finished.
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2. |
't Wijnglas
02:06
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's Avonds lezen w'in de kranten
Hoe het ging die dag aan 't front
Zoveel honderd weer gevallen
Zoveel duizend weer gewond
Zoveel kind'ren zonder vader
Zoveel moeders zonder kind
En we vragen wanneer eens toch
Dat gemoord een einde vindt
Maar des morgens -welk een vreugde-
Lezen w'in het ochtendblad
Dat er een banket geweest is
In de een of and're stad
Waar Lloyd George weer heeft gedronken
Op het welzijn van z'n land
Waar de oorlog werd gewonnen
Met het wijnglas in de hand
's Avonds lezen w'in de kranten
Weer een boot getorpedeerd
Zoveel mensen uitgevaren
Zoveel maar teruggekeerd
Zoveel tonnen graan verloren
Zoveel mensen zonder brood
Zoveel vrouwen, zoveel kind'ren
Dichter bij de hongerdood
Maar des morgens -welk een vreugde-
Lezen w'in het ochtendblad
Van een rijk en deftig feestmaal
In de een of and're stad
Waar de "Kaiser" heeft gedronken
Op z'n uitgehongerd land
En "den Alten Gott" geprezen
Met het wijnglas in de hand
Elke dag brengt nieuwe ellende
Nieuwe armoe, nieuwe rouw
Elke dag krijgt ons vertrouwen
In de mensen weer een knauw
Angstig vragen we hoe lang nog
Deze oorlogswaanzin duurt
Welke afgezant des duivels
Deze wereld toch bestuurt
Ernstig gaan de diplomaten
Naar hun feestmaal en banket
Satan heeft aan 't hoofd der tafel
Zich als schenker neergezet
En hij vult daar met een grijnslach
Telkenmale tot de rand
Met het rode bloed der volk'ren
't Willig wijnglas in hun hand
translation:
The Wineglass
(originally Dutch lyrics written by Dirk Witte around 1917/1918)
In the evening we read the newspapers
About what happenend on the front:
Hundreds fallen in combat
Thousands more wounded.
So many children without their father
So many mothers without their child.
And we ask ourselves when
will the slaughter end.
But in the morning - oh what a joy,
We read the morning newspapers:
About a banquet in one of the larger capitals
Where …* made a toast
To the prosperity of his country.
Where the war was won
With a wineglass in his hand!
In the evening we read the newspapers:
Yet another ship torpedoed.
So many men put to sea
So few but did return.
So many tons of grain lost
So many mouths without bread.
So many women, so many children
Closer to death from starvation.
But in the morning - what a joy,
We read the morning papers:
Of a rich and stately banquet
In one of the larger capitals.
Where ...* made a toast
To his famished country
And praised ...*
With a wineglass in his hand!
Every day new misery,
new poverty, new mourning
Every day our trust in humankind
Catches a blow.
In fear we ask ourselves
How much longer this rage of war must go on
Which of Satan's ambassadors
Is governing our world?
Gravely the diplomats set off,
To their feast and banquet.
Satan put himself as pourer
At the head of the table
Where he fills with a grinn,
Each time to the brim
With the red blood of mankind
The willing wineglasses in their hands!
(...*: fill in name at choice)
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3. |
Storm of Progress
02:42
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The angel of our history
With his face towards the past.
Sees an endless catastrophe
New ruins built on the last.
The angel wants to spread his wings
To make whole what has been smashed
Awake the countless dead victims
Set all the living ghouls at rest.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
Feeding the flames of decay.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
In the end we all shall pay.
But a fierce wind is blowing
From what once was Paradise.
The angel cannot close his wings
Nor distract his staring eyes.
This raging storm propelling him
Into the future that remains.
His back turned to this bleak prospect
Before him debris and flames.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
Feeding the flames of decay.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
In the end we all shall pay.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
Feeding the flames of decay.
It's the storm of so-called 'progress'
In the end we all shall pay.
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4. |
Akoestisch uitro
01:33
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Instrumental track, so no lyrics here...
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Nuestros Derechos Utrecht, Netherlands
Two guys and a grrrl delivering relentless thrash metal with a punk spirit that will put a smile on your face.
Fast 'n furious for over a decade, but inactive since 2014.
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