1. |
My brain
03:00
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My brain, my brain,
when will you come back to me?
My brain, my brain,
when will you come back to me?
We walked this road together,
hand in hand, we walked away from now.
But not the second time,
not for the second time.
Trembling with fear, I’m leaving you
outside in the cold.
I don't believe you
but I believe in you.
I know you love the pain,
and the suffering, oh, it makes you moan.
That’s why this song is for you,
for to keep you warm.
My brain, my brain,
when will you come back to me?
My brain, my brain,
when will you come back to me?
My brain, my brain,
when will you come back to me?
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2. |
Taking off
03:45
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Your words, the vivid life descriptions,
your microseconds awake, they breathe.
When you stretch them, stretch them, stretch them,
my fingers follow,
I won't let go of them.I won't let go of them.
I sense the taste, it's in my mouth,
a bitter, sticky, brain inciting.
My mind it is a fighter jet-plane,
incongruent with your peaceful presence.
With your peaceful presence.
In the space of in-between, the wheels speed up,
the noise, the noise,
your hair still touching, touch my fingers,
pressure rises, rises, rises.
Rises, rises.
Here it is, the awaited moment,
the wheels lift up off of the ground.
Release, the fleeting, flying moment,
a moment, I thought, you were in my arms:
you're in my arms.
My pulsing stomach, my hips, my lips,
my burning, craving, crave more poison.
I won't let go of your silhouette,
I won't stop smoking this cigarette.
You're nothing but a friend I know,
I knew a girl, a girl I liked,
she played for me her saddest song
and it stayed with me all night long.
All night long.
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3. |
Waking up
04:50
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Waking up, waking up, waking up:
a healthy challenge,
every day, every day, every day,
in my body.
With the same nose and the toes, they're still there
but they differ
slightly, yes, slightly still, slightly, yes, slightly still
from yesterday.
There’s this little pain, little pain, little pain
in the shoulder,
linking muscle to the stomach through the brain
in one short breath.
I’d like to stay in the haze but I can’t stall it
any longer,
it hits like hammer: was it OK, need I feel shame, was it OK,
what I did yesterday.
(x2)
Waking up, waking up, facing up
to all these questions,
reconciling who I was last night
to me today.
Did I fail, fail again, fail again
in the successful
management, the regulation, management, the regulation
of my desire.
(x2)
Waking up, staying up, walking ‘round,
not to cave in,
it’s a new day, not alone, it’s a new day,
in my body.
A practice of life I have, life I have,
I remember
every day, what I do, every day, what I do
to stay alive.
(x2)
A practice of life I have, life I have,
stay alive.
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4. |
My brain drain
03:26
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Oh, let’s just leave my brain out of it, she’s resting.
She’s got multiple association syndrome,
she’s resting.
She’s got bottles, cans and broken glass
buried in her murky mass.
Arms and legs are sticking out,
angry memories scream and shout.
It’s hollow but full here,
muffy but shrill,
all at once, what an overkill.
The analytical zest it is charming
but these paradoxes get tiring.
Oh, please leave my brain out of it,
she’s resting.
She’s got water all up to her waist,
she’s weeping.
There’s the 'yes, yes, yes'es and 'no no no's,
and it’s just as likely that neither goes.
Webs of meaning, quite unclear:
What exactly went on here?
“I would, I should, but what, if, how,
who am I supposed to be now?”
Going, going, almost gone ...
oh, look there’s the break of dawn.
Oh, won't you leave my brain out of it,
she’s resting.
She’s folded her antennas,
she’s charging.
Tell her something, it won’t stick,
layers of white noise ever so thick.
Loops are speeding, they clash, they break,
- yet another useless take.
Now she’s knocking on her lover's door again,
thinks that there she’ll find her zen.
She ought to clean her windows soon,
so she can see the lovely moon.
Oh, please leave my brain out of it,
she’s resting.
She’s found a place in a grove on a hill,
she’s sleeping.
I’m cornered off, my brain in hand,
I wish I could leave it here in the sand.
It wasn’t her, she wasn’t there.
Look at us, what a lovely pair.
Oh, please just leave my brain out of it,
she’s resting.
She’s watching the sea in the moonlight,
she’s reflecting.
Let’s just leave my brain out of it, she ...
Oh, please leave my brain out of it, aah ...
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5. |
I will not forget
06:03
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I made a plan that I couldn‘t follow.
I ran into circles, many small circles.
My sister, my sister, I will not forget
how you made me a plan that I could follow.
I was afraid of not existing.
I lay in anguish of nothing ever lasting.
My brother, my brother, I will not forget
how you gave me your promise
of a soul everlasting.
I was ashamed of being the wrong one:
too old for failing, too sick for succeeding.
My father, my father, I will not forget
how every time I turned, you were always there
ready to understand.
I could not sleep, for weeks and for weeks.
Till day was a night and night was a day.
My mother, my mother, I will not forget
how you made me a bed that I could sleep in.
I did not know whether to stay or go.
You brought me a teacup, I stared out the window.
My lover, my lover, I will not forget
how you shared your courage and you let me go,
you let me go, I let you go.
I had forgotten how to be, how to live.
I looked for signs in the habits of others.
My friends, loving friends, I will not forget
how you kept reminding me of who I am, of who I am,
of who I am.
I made a plan that I couldn‘t follow.
I ran into circles, many small circles.
My sister, my sister, I will not forget
how you made me a plan that I could follow.
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6. |
Queer sweetheart
03:12
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I’m not your average heterochick,
you might even catch me with a queer-porn flick.
Oh, but don’t tell my country about it though,
'cause there I’m a radical feminist, oh oh,
and they don’t watch any kind of porn.
Oh, they don’t watch, I don’t watch porn.
Love me, eat me, teach me, feed me.
Give it to me, like I know you could
But with the sweet sweet queer that inhabits you.
God help my teenage fantasy:
A woman is climbing on top of me,
and after having strapped me down,
she – oh god, mom, dad, I’m so sorry,
it wasn’t me.
Oh, it wasn’t, oh, was it me?
Love you, breathe you, think you, create you,
I wanna give it to you even though I’m young,
the body doesn’t ask if it’s twenty-one.
I’ve been a passive psychobody,
it’s that old school crap that wants to feed on me.
But I look forward to better days
when I turn on like you turn on me.
When I turn on like you turn on me.
Turn me on.
Love me, please me, rock me, seed me,
give it to me like you love to do.
Your flesh is the liquid that I morph into.
Mama said don’t you play with fire,
and the x-rated pile just got higher and higher,
oh, boys and girls and girls and boys:
Just make friends with your own desire.
Boys, girls, friends, desire.
Love you, feel you, scare you, surprise you.
Love of my life, can we turn into art
the queer in the body of your own sweetheart?
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Adda Reykjavík, Iceland
Adda's music tells of the cobwebs of the body-mind. Her witty lyrics and mantra-ish chord progressions alternate between obsession and meditation, a dark world topped with unusual but catchy melodies. This, together with the soothing vocal harmony of Adda and sister Sunna Ingólfsdóttir, makes for music of heavy lightness, music to fall asleep and wake up to at the same time. ... more
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