Diapsiquir is dead tonight…
Fed up with your boredom, your conformism, your deceitfulness hidden behind your pitiful fan-attitude. You thought you could belive in them, but they don’t believe in you at all. Whatever. Diapsiquir put an end to the folklore as much as they grab its very essence, they fuck the light as much as they embrace it. Diapsiquir is Diapsiquir and almost no one understood what it is about, even yours truly, trying to lay down these words. No need to lie anymore…
Diapsiquir is dead. Diapsiquir is alive. A bit closer to God, and farther from Satan. Or maybe these two ones are just the two sides of the same coin, laughing while strangling each other, false brother and false foes.
Diapsiquir is dead, Diapsiquir is alive. Straighten up to 180°, erected and harded-on, an authentic but unorthodox Lazarus. Too authentic, for us, for everything. Diapsiquir is dead and 180° is alive, it quivers, eructates, sings and doesn’t like salute you. It doesn’t like you, did you know ? And you can bet you won’t like it too, not if you care about your beloved little metal, this inocuous infringment. The bastards are back and well ! They squat in your unconscious, the mental backyard you don’t want to tread. What is inhibited ends up revolting.
Face to the dead-end, both escape or fight are at hand. No more folklore, no more disguise, tear down the mask, the existential fear on your back. 180° to burn you, 180° to turn you uspide down, 180° to piss you but in the end you’ll love it nonetheless. Stockholm syndrom pays.
Bastards forever, with new clothes but still the same, without shame. Don’t you like variety?
Diapsiquir is dead tonight… all hail Diapsiquir!