The Möbius Strip

by Psychopress

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1.
06:08
2.
05:24
3.
04:55
4.
5.
02:02
6.
05:07
7.
8.
04:49

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released April 19, 2019

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Psychopress Taichung City, Taiwan

Psychopress (the abbreviation for Psychological Oppression) is a Taiwanese band founded in Nantou, Taiwan in September 2011. They focused on thrash metal in the first few years, and later musically evolved from a thrash metal band to a group featuring progressive/death metal. In May 2017, they set about The Möbius Strip recording project and finished it in 2019. ... more

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Track Name: Altruist
Ridiculed devotion—like a fool, the guilt's fueled.
The vilest conspiracy, I recall and withdraw....
My wishful thinking is the root of it all.

Intimidated and disintegrated...

I would compare you to
a swarm of scavenging ants, foraging for pain.
When you are through, what will remain?

Scoffing at my vows as you
sabotage the truth you pursued.
I have realised and reviewed
that indeed this is nothing new.

Listen to this lament, the fait accompli:
Those pretentious lies left me with nothing but woe.
While I maintain a fancy masquerade,
another fraud can tell my claim is a mere decoy.

I traced the trajectory,
an endeavour to find the source of my cloying sentiment,
yet its complexity has consumed me.

Two roads diverge ahead.
I choose one that I dread,
while I say I'm misled.

I would compare you to
a swarm of scavenging ants, foraging for pain.
When you are through, what will remain?

Scoffing at my vows as you
sabotage the truth you pursued.
I have realised and reviewed
that indeed this is nothing new.
Track Name: Hypocrite
We inspect your mind.
You hope you can hide,
though all are confined
by that certain sign.

The inborn addiction all undergoes.
None's excluded since in the embryos.
When you believe yourself superior,
the blind cul-de-sac would come even closer.

Make him stumble, no remorse, shame on you.
Cunning tactics, 'tis a hoax, woe to you.

How long will you keep up the disguise,
once the devious manoeuvre's reached its demise?

You may pretend... rest in your delusion, but beware as the end is nigh.
This naked and grotesque deformity will be revealed viciously.
We see your anxiety from deep within, the panic and fear in your eyes.
You may draw from the heart of this torment.
Behind the veil there're only lies.

‘One thing you cannot hide, is when you are crippled inside.’

The inborn addiction all undergoes.
None's excluded since in the embryos.
When you believe yourself superior,
the blind cul-de-sac would come even closer.

Make him stumble, no remorse, shame on you.
Cunning tactics, 'tis a hoax, woe to you.

How long will you keep up the disguise,
once the devious manoeuvre's reached its demise?
Track Name: Lucid Dream
I lie awake as I wonder and flounder.
I mumble to my soul, baffled by my memory.
I try to unriddle this puzzle, yet in vain.

‘Afraid to live, what a way to exist….’
I often seem nearly invisible.
My incomplete and fragile presence
will make no impact on life’s essence.

Sometimes I feel trapped in a hallucination.
Will there be a day when I have illumination?
Those mediocre days, each senseless and unclear.
The labour that I face leaves me with nothing but fear.
Fear for what is there beyond, dreading my oblivion.
Everything I earned... from them I learned
my dull existence and sublime ignorance.

Lucid nightmares

This is the endgame of the atrocious tragedy.
My self-repression ideas, ideals…, none of them matters.
They are ephemeral.
The evanescence isn’t mere symbolic.
Status: still waiting with misgivings, suffering from withdrawal….
Track Name: The Other Side
Though all appears to be clear to me,
I realise this absurd reality.

Of the excuses I have grown weary
when I trust the progression naively.
This is it, my destiny, between woe and mirth.
Though I'm given amnesty, seems it has no worth.

In favour of foresight, I boast....

I expect that the peace will not persist
and I lack the fortitude to resist.
Will you hear again my cry, as you know my mind—
this spiritually-deceased, impenitent beast?
Track Name: Root
(Instrumental)
Track Name: Rattrap
From the outset it is set.
There is always another debt.
The mind's gone numb.
Again I start to succumb.

A weird déjà vu, I've been black-and-blue.
I can't stay aloof, lest I appear uncouth.

In an endeavour to deny the rage,
the utopia is my worst phobia.
Showing false fervour,
the war has been waged:
to figure out the tempting enigma.

Behind bars I have been,
while unchained and free,
yet not daring to flee.
Our lives are too brief.
Beyond my belief—why does he take no prisoners?
He calls coroners, but they find no scars, and he says, ‘That's bizarre....’

Can it be that he is only imagined?
No, it can't be!
I have to query what seems perceptibly genuine.
But I can see, this morbid frenzy's driving me crazy!

Once more, should I step towards the light?
Track Name: Unbounded Frame
Bound and gagged in omnipresent fearsome darkness.
In dead silence,
I take heed of his presence.
He comes close to me,
and soon gives me a guarantee.
I can feel
he has his intentions concealed.
But to stand or kneel—no good would either yield.

‘Such a wretch you are!
(‘Such burden—)
Sneakin' in when I let my guard down.
(you tried so hard to defy.
I’ve seen too much and had enough,
(I knew that)
but am I just calling my bluff?’
(when being rebuffed.’)

PTSD, conscience-stricken somehow.
PTSD, suspicions aroused.

‘Never conform to favoured norms.’

The outrageous siren calls to me
when I am in the thick of the fight.
Slowly, I sink into lethargy.

All these poignant struggles, when I step aside
from confrontations, never hint that I'm justified.
Whenever the neutrality's maintained,
I can feel the pain and the false guilt again.

‘Another failure
confirms our defects by nature.
Mortality is torture
through the snake in the orchard.’

PTSD, contrition assumed.
PTSD, repetitions doomed.
Track Name: Retrospect
Staring at the ceiling,
awaiting the known unknown.
Too bleak.
Living in false solace,
the promise's wasted, somewhat tarnished.

Creak. Tick-tock.
Countdown to the mission,
is this a glimpse of apocalyptic visions?
Cognitive dissonance
draws our nonchalance; further, decadence.

Though encouraged to impart the honest conclusion,
their derision is always an acute confusion.

When the time comes, dare I say,
‘no reserve, retreat nor regret’?
Feeling no warmth, cold as clay,
my soul's full of dismay.
Constant streams come down and wet
that solitary silhouette.
A sluggish life would preset
a sufficient end yet.
Fading to obscurity
is the even-handed justice.
We've been drifting to and fro,
lost in the ebb and flow.

From segment steadily to fragment,
or leave the helm, enterin' the peaceful realm.

When the time comes, dare I say,
‘no reserve, retreat nor regret’?
Feeling no warmth, cold as clay,
my soul's full of dismay.
Constant streams come down and wet
that solitary silhouette.
A sluggish life would preset
a sufficient end yet.
The perfect tranquility
should always derive from within.
So be it.

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