Synthetic Madness, Synthetic Thought, Byproduct… Synthetic Man by Happy Parrot

It was the righteous path to simplified damnation

it was the white tongue stamped in the forthcoming ecliptic salvation

Lost in this world, lost in the indifferent united nation

flaying damned plane with no right explanation

Pain stays with you

even if all memories are inconsequentially in love with you

damage has been done

lost shadow and memories are now walking amongst stars, perfectly alone

Nothing feels right

nothing feels at home

are you coming undone

is real you forever…gone

Build inside house full of mistreated confusion

raised to believe in materialistic pleasure, superimposed malevolent illusion

give us, a generous contribution

give us free energy, give us valiant, aromatic fusion

unfeathered fish swims in watered-down illusion

the whole world is dumbed down illiterate Confucious

Everyone begs for the distant web made of red crystalline solution

covered in naked absolution, they don’t see a path to graceful involution

Suddenly freedom is

Out of style

sophisticated slave, run for another worthy mile

be on time, it is not a crime

Out of style

your thirsty essence arises in the kingdom of the eternal aisle

can you feel now, it is the primordial voice of the prime flow

all unperfected illusions are hidden under the soulless, bleeding, and bending black snow

it is all pretentious, useful, and alienated show

Fake Stars please start to glow!

Artificial people, eat the finest crow…

just believe

don’t try to be in the know

do you, really want to be left behind

do you want to advance, awkwardly and painfully slow?

Are you out of your poor and miserable minds?!?

why do you swim, in the mortified sea of thousand solidified lies

broken man’s harbor has sunken into degraded pine

red water has been turned into a savage white vine

Turquoise Elemental River runs without time

eternity doent’t need a whisper of a bygone era, her loveless pleasure is the confiscated downtime

reality is an amalgamation full of dark artificial interconnected slime

causality is an unvetted song written without instrumental rhyme

it was the righteous path to promised damnation

it was the white tongue stamped in the forthcoming ecliptic longitudinal, echoing salvation

pointless starvation, warm bread, and tasty mead are now put out of

desired fashion

empty mind and hungry heart will do anything for a stormy well-deserved ration

Pain stays with you

even if all memories are inconsequentially in love with you

damage has been done

lost shadow and memories are now walking amongst stars, perfectly alone

Nothing feels right

nothing feels at home

are you coming undone

is real you forever…gone

trust in impossible things

buy yourself, a Faustinian medal or piece of silver wings

Set on fire dying mumbling twins

look inside your heart and see

what, reality brings

What all this here

really, means

Can you kill sin of all sins?

House of eternal fire

is brimming with sadistic lust, with a thousand unstoppable points of emerald desire

another timeless unstained quagmire

another monumental self-absorbing and nightmarish pyre

tries to speak: are you ready, my chosen, my vigilant and heroic Sire?

the situation here is always impossible and barbarically dire

everything you touch is a live wire

is your adamantium-covered soul ready and willing?

is she for hire?

Suddenly freedom is

Out of style

petrified slave, run for another worthy mile!

be on time, it is not a crime

Out of style

your thirsty essence arises in the kingdom of the eternal aisle

can you feel it now, it is the primordial voice of the prime glow

all unperfected illusions are hidden under the soulless, bleeding black snow

it is all pretentious, useful, and overcomplicated show

Fake Stars, please start to glow!

Artificial people, eat the finest crow…

just believe

don’t try to be in the know

do you, really want to be left behind

do you want to advance, awkwardly and painfully slow?

Nothing feels right

nothing feels at home

are you coming undone

is real you forever…gone

Trust in impossible things

buy yourself, a Faustinian medal or piece of silver Vitruvian wings

Set on fire dying, mumbling twins

look inside your screaming heart and see

what deformed reality, truly brings

What all this here

really, means

when true Cosmos will start to sing

Will you selflessly kill sin of all sins?

Death whisper now walks on a thousand sharpest pins

late hour heroically sleeps

but still, something deep inside is howling and reeks

what would you do, for an honest knightly fix

when black pandora’s box is out of her captivating Trix

do you choose nine or number six?

in which shameless house,

the real beast,

peacefully sleeps?

does the dreaded number 666

reveals the solar frequency,

hidden deep in the one silent mortal beat?

at least show some common decency

tell me,

in which shameless house,

the real beast,

peacefully sleeps?

Monsters descend
Feeding on us
There’s no sympathy
Breeding the hate

Turn away, run away from
All the things we have to do

And it tears away our hearts and our soul

It’s like we’re on our own
To figure out, cast out
Paralyzed, rewind, there’s no time
And the wasteland, it’s an indication

We’re only taking turns
Passing around the world
It’s how it’s always been

Out of excuses
Will we understand?

That we are on our own
To figure out, cast out
Paralyzed, this time
We have found the wasteland

Out of excuses
Will we understand?

It’s like we’re on our own
To figure out, cast out
Paralyzed, this time
We have found the wasteland
The wasteland, yeah

Synthetic Madness, Synthetic Thought, Byproduct… Synthetic Man

Synthetic madness and synthetic man as a plagiarized memory, an illusory specter of a sporadic and past time, lost in a domain that no longer dreams here, in a domain without empirical evidence, full of stray stormy, unimaginative plays and real solid rules that would restore the necessary honest humanity in him.

Today, everything is a version of something that is obligatory marked as “smart”, and so is our companion on this timeless road, man.

And he himself became smart without effort, without sweat, without the desire for true knowledge, overnight he got a much-needed voice, a magical diploma and the opportunity to show and announce to the whole world what he “knows” and what he thinks today, almost every moment our individual is adorned with positive or negative, the vampiric succubus of electric charge lets us know that he has left the past behind and accepted new, better ways of dealing with himself and his analog, outdated environment.

He has become simply too smart for this world, the more he is connected to a bunch of electronic devices, the smarter he becomes, and a bigger stage opens up an even bigger amphitheater of countless insane interpolar possibilities, where he can give a leg up to his intellectual superiority, show the validity of his indomitable revelations and a dose of global, crystal-clear, unfiltered newly acquired synthetic intelligence.

Did the ugly, shameless synthetics casually, spontaneously kill a man, kill the last, human, and heroically charged heart?

So now when that miserable, minimalist heart beats, beats only in one rhythm, the rhythm of synthetic madness, separated from stoic and much-needed empathic logic, separated from itself, it is only in someone else’s thought, even if it instinctively wants to be the navigator and ruler of a new logical spectrum.

Synthetic Thought and its Surrogate Byproduct…. Synthetic Man

“Those who disagree with my current position are probably lying shamelessly…”

[Verse 1]
Love me forever or not at all
End of our tether, backs to the wall
Give me your hand, don’t you ever ask why
Promise me nothing, live ’till we die

[Chorus 1]
Everything changes, it all stays the same
Everyone guilty, no-one to blame
Every way out brings you back to the start
Everyone dies to break somebody’s heart

[Verse 2]
We are the system, we are the law
We are corruption, worm in the core
One of another, laugh ’till you cry
Faith unto death or a knife in your eye

[Chorus 2]
Everything changes, it all stays the same
Everyone guilty, no-one to blame
Every way out takes you back to the start
Everyone dies to break somebody’s heart
Oh, my lost love, come on back to me

[Verse 3]
Love me or leave me, tell me no lies
Ask me no questions, send me no spies
You know love’s a thief, steal your heart in the night
Slip through your fingers, best hold on tight

[Chorus 2]
Everything changes, it all stays the same
Everyone guilty, no-one to blame
Every way out brings you back to the start
Everyone dies to break somebody’s heart
Oh, my lost love, come on back to me

Stripped of the wounds of the past, he shamelessly steps into the unknown, he heroically swims towards his own, perverse crime, his personal singular question. The place where the individual is cut off from their grumpy individuality and his radical wandering, marked by violently rejected structures that make him human and all his now occupied thoughts break down in a simplified singular one directional theorem.

Everyone is everything, everyone can do everything, and basically, no one is nothing anymore.

Without hope and without a way out, he became a set of the same sterilized theorems, a prisoner and an oppressed servant of that synthetic thought.

Whenever he searches, he usually comes across a digital, high-frequency stylistic input that is not his own, so he sails on and on like a ghost ship without a captain, stolen from his higher, god essence and he is getting, closer and closer to primitive noncognitive singularity, to total alienation from original, free thought.

Thought changes the world, and a true, non-isolated idea frees man from himself, and inevitably brings him closer to God’s consciousness, not in the Abrahamic sense, but in the sense of total, polyvalent freedom in which a higher set of sacred rules rule, suspended, always present ancient forms of law in the spiritual sense, which without “superhuman efforts ” and a pile of unnecessary papers is understood by the bearer of such higher consciousness…

Synthetic consciousness is an unavoidable reflection of people’s momentary inertness and even subliminal, static laziness, into which he naively fell in, wanting a constantly better life.

The irrational and rational search for constantly higher ideals is a good thing if the self-proclaimed (self-realized being) ship has its firm port and uncompromising destination, and it is a terrible solution if the said ship is constantly traveling alone, never truly finding itself, but permanently lost in its own, continuous duality and in the vast inconclusive and stormy sea of his, personal hysterical misery.

Life is a beautiful and extraordinary journey, but not every illuminated port on the dark sea horizon is worth a random docking.

There are many challenging mermaids in our earthly sea, who create our visible existence, but, unfortunately, too few real sailors.

A siren’s song can be compared to a Pavlovian synthetic thought, and both consist of frequency and vibration and a polarizing sound that unwittingly calls out its new, shamelessly stunned victim.

The closer you are to that intoxicating and almost orgasmic source, the tone becomes clearer and more irresistible.

Synthetic Man is the master of Phantom Irrational Theoretical Love and the hapless, dormant lover of electric digital noise/flash.

Human individuality has become a slave to constant, non-constructive banal simplification, and the same, once extremely superior, original thought has lost its unbreakable potency, the intelligent minds have become automatized slaves in the middle of simpleton idiocracy.

Today, the old voice of the indisposed Mediocrity has become the true ruler of the synthetic human, shamelessly animalizing this synthetic token, in a cursed kingdom that simply can not last.

Both are rushing together towards the inevitable end, into wide open arms of the electric suicidal god, and their long-ago cursed existence becomes the naked wasteland of all possible realities – the singularity.

I try to imagine the best place I’ve been
Can I go back again?
Open my eyes, what was no longer exists
I can’t go back again
I like to pretend that nothing has changed
And never went too far
But it started to lose me
Like a four-hour movie I’d already seen

[Bridge]
Holding onto my memory
Of what this used to be
Holding onto my memory of you

[Pre-Chorus]
Sometimes I tell myself
That things are okay
Another lie, but it makes me feel better
Never as old as I was today
I’m gonna breakdown, breakdown

[Chorus]
In American Pompeii
In American Pompeii
I break myself just to live this way
Never as old as I was today
American Pompeii

[Verse 2]
Look in my eyes and see how sick I feel
About what you’ve become
Filthy and twisted like you never existed
I know what you were
Your beauty forgotten
Under mountains of schism
I don’t wanna climb
Giving up my memory
Of what this used to be
I’m giving up my memory of you

[Pre-Chorus]
Sometimes I tell myself
That things are okay
Another lie, but it makes me feel better
Never as old as I was today
I’m gonna breakdown, breakdown

[Chorus]
In American Pompeii
In American Pompeii
I break myself just to live this way
Never as old as I was today
American Pompeii

[Guitar Solos]

[Chorus]
In American Pompeii
In American Pompeii
I break myself just to live this way
Never as old as I was today
American Pompeii

[Verse 3]
Try to imagine the best place I’ve been
Can I go back again?
Open my eyes, what was no longer exists
I can’t go back again
I’m giving up my memory
Of what this used to be
Giving up my memory of you