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Post Pop Violence

by Judas The Dancer

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1.
Remember what you said Promises have weight. Trust is never for free. Something's stuck 'tween my teeth. Every time that you look behind what's the motto you loop in your seclusion? Be a shark in the ocean to survive? Was it only 'bout throwing dice? Making broth with my bones as a conclusion? Well, through all this my water runs again. Yo little bugs I can let you inside my coat... or eat you alive. Hey little bugs I will scratch you out of my coat, back to the scum of your world. I say you weren't worth a dime and your words were like you: smoke and delusion. Who's now taken those 30 silver coins? Yet now it's done you bet, I've learnt! Yo little bugs I had let you inside my coat but never for life. Hey little bugs now I've scratched you out of my coat. Go find another one to parasitize. You dance under glaciers still but they'll come on you one day or the next. Judas knows that dough is fair yet, advice for free man: you sometimes end up with a rope! Now that I've spit it all I'm done with you. (You're) a merry ol' shitload.
2.
Post Pop Violence And the twelve did arrive... Jeez all the pack of them! So I said “take a seat please”, just don't get me wrong: it was out of mere courtesy. Then maybe the wine or the long windin' road... but I told 'em again of my fate. And the chattering collapsed like I've let slip a fart I felt so underrated. I've reached the brim tonight with my bragging, showing how and why. No, I won't take a compromise. I'm back in line. Hear my post pop violence, baby. “I know couple of tricks dudes, I trade water for wine!” It eventually worked, they were soft, so we boozed, it was of the sad type. Then I came out with that, you know, about blood being wine and flesh bread. Was it all just too much...only a tad? I've reached the brim tonight with my bragging, showing how an why. No, I won't take a compromise. I'm back in line. Suck my post pop violence, baby. I'm much of a talker, much of a talker boy. I'm such a nice boozer boy, I'm a loser.
3.
Maradona Talking Heads Shut your eyes while we build our attractions Follow the rabbit white all our tricks and our fashion. We are the keepers... or are we the crooks? Find out, swallow that treacle. What a shit of a nation. If I could just throw it up! Here buccaneers harbor. The mediocre will thrive. Hey, I got a story to tell sort of a midnight ride: check it out. A little bit of the shit we say it's from the dung of our hopes, failures and sins, a carrion crow, just a little grain. And when we're feeling insecure just to make it through the day say we had bankers when they painted faces blue. That we visited hell (yeah) on a poet's quill and castrated man with faith. Say thank you! (for this Great Beauty) Say thank you! (for this Beauty) Say fuck you! (for this Great Beauty) Say fuck. Oh fuck! What did you say? The gift you have counts nothing since you talk shit. Oh God! I can't believe that! That hole you'd better shut is mocking us all! Oh fuck! Ya really did it! Fuck no! My wish for you is an ungrateful death in misery! You think you're the king but we are the throne: the weight of the shame you packed on our crowd.
4.
Judas Saves 03:24
Judas saves! Stay at your side, all you deserved is actually mine. Nice try to me boy but this is the life. You stop playing with toys, lad choosing your poor wife No blame on my street; no way to fuck this shit! No come home/ Never stop for a moment. The pride of our fathers / Let will flow. Mind your own / Only way of consuming. We the sons of the devil / Grown with gold. You are your judgement! You are you lenience! You know there ain't way you can trick your death?! Buildings grow! Dead grey tones! Children born of a soulless world! No come home/ Never stop for a moment. The pride of our fathers / Let will flow. Mind your own / Only way of consuming. We the sons of the devil / Grown with gold.
5.
Digging the grave It would be wrong to ask you why because I know what goes inside is only half of what comes out isn't that what it's about? To remind us we're alive to remind us we're not blind in that big, black hole comfortable. Digging the grave, I got it made. Let something in, throw something out you left the door open wide. Digging the grave, I got it made I know you have a reason why that knot is better left untied I just went and undid mine it takes some time. And the shadow so big, it takes the sun out of the day and the feeling goes away when you close the door, comfortable.
6.
Along came Lili Nights are grey and the whiteness of days blinds me. Oh elderly's pride against your eyes along you came Lili. Were a moment a life on its own would you be the end of mine? What if the rest was my biggest crash would you be its end? And if life was an enormous void would you be water? Chained between bars of rage and ego. (You)fell from the sky; you circumvented my mirage. In a moment I know an eternal tick to bare you dear. Venus's heat lips and feathers. I am my biggest distraction my biggest collision. My biggest war. You, my radio. We're sons of the black light (tangle of souls) We're sinners on this world. (Lovers In red) Us: sons of death and faith. (Cynics of an era) Us: seakers eternal. You've grown smell of the air. You've grown taste of the flesh. You've grown impending doom. Farthest dune amidst I get death. When you walk you feel protected but you're chained. Cannot run. Now you sense and realize that in this love there's a soulside endless walk. Love! (Your expired freedom) And now it's the moment you know that eternal ticking cold room. With heat in the heart. Now that you are my air Taste of the very flesh I own. Show me my doom, On the dune on which I'll die.

about

EP. Self Published. Available in physical format as digipack. Search youtube for the videos promoting "Maradona Talking Heads!", "Post Pop Violence" and "Digging the Grave"

credits

released June 21, 2016

Marco Paltanin - Vocals and guitars;
Nicolò Cavallaro - Growls and Bass;
Lorenzo Fabbri - Guitars;
Ronnie Battizocco - Drums;

Recorded, mixed and mastered by Mike Pelillo at "Kaze Studio", Modena (Italy) in August 2015. All songs written and arranged by Judas The Dancer. Photo by Dennis Ziliotto. Graphics and layout by Martino Prendini.

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Judas The Dancer Italy

Post Pop Violence: the hidden depravation in listenable music.

Born from 3 members of prog band Eloa Vadaath, Marco, Lorenzo and Nicolò, boosted by drummer Ronnie and fed with smoke, alchool and Kryptonite to serve you, dear viz, all the post-pop- violence you never dared to indulge to. ... more

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