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Hatespeare

from Two Is a Lie by Under The Bed

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lyrics

I died on July two thousand and twelve: the twenty-forth of the month, to be accurate. Or maybe it was the year before, I can’t remember shit: after that night, everyday looked the same. Dal punto in cui ti guardo non capisco se sorridi o se urli: come hai fatto a prender sonno stanotte? Non hai sentito la piena? Averti qui è come essere immerso in un olio bollente: si è fatto buio ma tu non lo vedi, parlarti ormai è una tortura. Dovresti vivere cent’anni senza di me, senza di me. Ma con la iena del tuo rimorso a divorarti il ventre. Perderò tutto ma avrò comunque tutto. True-fucking-story. Ehi! Finirai inghiottendo polvere: morirai in una cava e nessuno saprà il tuo nome. C’è quel becchino che ti aspetta nell’atrio, con una piuma di pavone nell’occhio: porgigli i miei… porgigli i miei saluti mentre ti sta scannando. True story. Dal punto in cui ti guardo non capisco: un vento morto mastica le nuvole, eppure l’erba che calpesto è viva come te. Watch, it ugly-- I died on July two thousand and twelve. I died on July two thousand and twelve. What earthly sweetness remains unmixed with grief? Remains unmixed with grief? I didn’t tell you something today: the real cause of my sadness. The reason why I get so angry, the reason why I’m crying now. I died on July twenty-fourth, man: year twenty and eleven, now I remember it! There’s something wrong with you, but you’re lucky as hell it doesn’t show on your face. Dal punto in cui ti guardo (I’m sorry) non capisco se sorridi o se urli: il vento strilla tra i pini di notte: (of being late again) non mi hai sentito morire? Romeo marcisce sulle assi del palco, senza nessuno al suo fianco: Romeo marcisce ed è sempre più stanco. Watch it ugly piece of-- Shove the fuck off: I’ll bounce back. Watch it, piece of shit, you’re a treacherous vermin.

credits

from Two Is a Lie, released September 16, 2016

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Under The Bed Montecatini Terme, Italy

What’s under your bed? Old stuff, we guess, and new one too. Monsters you once feared. Things you want to keep hidden, and things you want to keep close. This is UTB. No genre, no rules, just music. Grasp your flashlight, and take a peek.

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