IWTB005 ZEIT "The World Is Nothing"

by I Want To Believe Tapes

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The World Is Nothing © 2015 All Rights Reserved.

Recorded, Mixed and Mastered in March 2015 at Hate Studio (Vicenza, Italy) www.hatestudio.it by Luca “Peo” Spigato.
Artwork by SoloMacello metal@solomacello.it


released October 30, 2015

All Music And Lyrics by Zeit zeithc.bandcamp.com www.facebook.com/zeithc
Guest Vocal on "Tautologies" by Fabio Favaretto from Hobos.



all rights reserved
Track Name: World And Distances
The world has never impeded us to express ourselves
but what it gave us is a preclusive language.
If we persist in living into difference
how can we increase the distance between us?
By watching the existence we saw the thing,
by touching the thing we made the object,
we compelled ourselves to be identity into illusion
that lives through the difference
and its continuous happening.
"The world is nothing but this repetition",
the distance must increase,
it is the epistyle you need to pass through.
Never wondering towards the revealing of the differences.
Once we step out of the path
made into object as near as incomplete.
The world won't still stop us from talking
but our being in the world and in the difference
won't be identity anymore,
we'll have no language
and only silence will remain.
Track Name: Weaving
An explosion that weaves
the womb where the being is buried,
needles sew bodies, weaving chains
crossing tissues, water, sand and mountains.
In the middle, a genius, a madman, a man.
He moves, he pulls the wires,
Only two eyes on his face
and a third one on top of his head facing the sky.
As that eye is so high
he doesn't realize,
he doesn't see the chains gushing from our mouths,
entering our ears, flowing through our veins.
Track Name: Distance And Difference
You gave a name to nothingless
as if it was on the other side,
you gave a name to nothingless
as if there was another side.
Try to listen and float with the sound of things you say.
Listen and try staring at the ground,
here is the only possible spot
no matter how hard you try.
Distance and difference
are wrinkles of a face with one sole expression,
all you see are tearful eyes
with the wind they collide.
But the wind's direction won't change,
it keeps blowing among us.
Just think of staying here for a while.
is the sole alternative and that face won't stop crying.
All you knew was wrong, all you had is gone,
anything you watch is dead, anything you loved now left.
Listen and think of resting for a while,
nothing is as impossible as describing non existence.
My memory stretches its hand towards you,
it clashes and caresses the sole expression of that face
and sweeps away distance and differences.
Track Name: Chasing The Void
It's the same reality
the living and the dead,
the awake and the asleep,
the empty and the full,
the young and the old.
Changing this becomes the other
and changing the other is this again.
Flowing one after another
even though they'll never collide,
moved by this impossible bond
finding out everything is already old and young
running after things that can't be divided
for they were divided at birth.
Changing this becomes the other
trying to mark the passing of time
floating on the surface
they can only look behind.
It's the same reality
the living and the dead,
the awake and the asleep,
the empty and the full,
the young and the old.
Track Name: Tautologies
The futility of the concept of truth is shut in its own building,
it wouldn't be so hard to tear this thousand year-old building down
but anytime I demolish I keep on rebuilding.
All propositions of logic are of equal rank,
every tautology itself shows that it is a tautology.
Logical research means the investigation of all regularity.
And outside logic all is accident.
The only way to shut it down is
"To say nothing except what can be said"
But without the speech what remains?
I tried to yell with infinite voices to smash it up
but none of these in enough to reach the foundations
That's because by now in my infinite voices
the only rule echoed is:
"To say nothing except what can be said"
And the silence that talks to me from its inner walls
is the one I surrendered to as the worthless truth
"Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent."
Track Name: Lack Of Parts
I created this world
and everything you see.
You are my thing
created by me, you are mine,
you are me, you are a part of me.
All your pain and all your happiness,
this feeling of being alive It's my fault
I'm sorry.
But this world,
Is the only way I can be free.
Thanks for being a part of it,
thanks for living for me.
I'm not sure you need my excuses.
Anyway, Thank you.
Track Name: No Conception
There's no life on man's earth,
no room for the dead,
only fathers deceiving themselves.
All the gods they created
put a curse on the human race,
forcing it to conceive life as some divine grace.
Cursed is the god that cursed the father
and cursed is the race he begot,
twice is cursed the father who created god.
No life, nor death
my blessing frees you from grace.
Not free, nor guilty
I give conscious unconsciousness
give your mind the right cage.
Burn down fears, embrace the void,
I beheaded your fathers for you.
Track Name: The Walls Of The World
The only thing we can say is
what we're not,
what we don't want.
The impossible is unperceivable
and what we have been building is nothing but its image
raised by the illusion born from the absence.
A further has passed, the other fade away.
The walls of the world I can't grip are drew by the flow.
They really don't care about all this because
when the moment of the third further will come,
of the fourth, of the fifth, of those following
they will watch them fall

as soon as I drop them.

Of the fourth, of the fifth, of those following
they will watch them fall.
"Is not", and all the conceivable negations.
And the only thing left
Is that I'm able to tell.
Track Name: Past Meanings
The meaning of things is just the surface
of interpretation
of what seems to be a given order of the world.
The combination we call nature
is just the becoming of what
we call balance.
What we call meaning is just the order
of something needed to create the illusion of the order.
There are no balances to observe,
obviousness to discover,
or lives to love.
Maybe not even
the flowing of things.
No love and longing for what has disappeared.
There's no sense in saying
what we have just said.
There aren't words in excess
to make it stupid less