File it under D - Split​-​EP w/ Demenzia Kolektiva

by Dim Prospects

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Released on Santa Diabla

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santadiabla.de
dimprospects@med-user.net

credits

released March 23, 2017

Recorded and mixed Oct./Nov. 2016 at Elephantwest Recording Studio with Nikolaus Preglau. Mastered by Daniel Husayn at North London Bomb Factory

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Dim Prospects Vienna, Austria

Dim Prospects is a punk/hc band from Vienna/Austria. The six members have been active, partly together, in various bands in the last 20 years such as Target of Demand, Those Who Survived the Plague, Knallkopf, Cyruss or Brambilla, just to mention some of them.
www.med-user.net/~dimprospects/
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Track Name: The very last step
THAT VERY LAST STEP

Feels like you haven’t slept for years.
Live your life through endless blurry days.
You were on top of the world.
And there’s no pill no drug no remedy that helps.

And you may scream till you’re blue in the face.
You’re bout to step in the wrong pile of shit.
You’ve got a bone to pick with the rest of the world.
Before you finally go to sleep.

It pulled the rug out from under your feet.
He was acting so damn proud, was talking’ way too loud.
Wanted to rip his tongue out, so the pain would stop.
On second thought, this won’t pass in court.

And you may scream till you’re blue in the face.
The 16 dead men on your chest won’t let you breathe.
You’ve got a bone to pick with the rest of the world.
Before you finally go to sleep.


Sometimes it does hurt when you smile.
Sometimes you push too hard, you act too smart.
The blue light of the screen reminds you of home.
There’s no safe haven, your future’s in stainless steel.

And you may scream till you’re blue in the face.
Cough out your lungs take that very last step.
You’ve got a bone to pick with the rest of the world.
Before you finally go to sleep.
That very last step.
Track Name: Papers and waiting
PAPERS AND WAITING

Escaped from certain death.
Got shot, beaten and robbed.
Watched his loved ones blown to bits.

The borders had been closed.
A sheer endless odyssey
for the prospects of a better life.


The stench of burning flesh still lingers… in his nose.
The screams of pain still in his head.
A tin container now is home… for all he knows.
Holding on to a faded photograph.

This is a country of papers and waiting.
This is a country of speeches and strife.
This is a country of complacency and malice.
They're downscaled to crises, masses and waves.

The stench of burning flesh still lingers… in his nose.
The screams of pain still in his head.
A tin container now is home… for all he knows.
A battered suitcase under the bed.

He used to love the sea.
The small of salt and fish and childhood memories.
He used to love the sea.
Childish illusions of a better place beyond.
He used to love the sea.

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