Self-made Oblivion Lyrics


Nothing more that a spot in a scenery,

the work of art focuses on the artist himself:

an idea that takes shape in a thinking body

setting boundaries in every direction.

The picture falls on the canvas

in thousands of colors.

Spots are so many, often too many...

The thin line bond

joins them together with

indelible segmented trace paths.

The artist can change his thought

changing perspectives and lights.

His laboratory’s in motion.

Overloads the hairs of his brush

when he creates something out of nothing.

There’re multiple chances of realization

because real matter doesn’t exist.

Overloads the hairs of his brush

when he creates something out of nothing.

There’re multiple chances of realization

because real matter doesn’t exist.

Nothing more that a spot in a scenery,

the work of art focuses on the artist himself:

an idea that takes shape in a thinking body

setting boundaries in every direction.

The picture fills their beautiful game, frame, shame!

The picture fills their beautiful game, frame, shame!

Game, frame, shame!

Game, frame, shame!

The work of art rises on museum pedestal,

but only a spot remains on the scenery.

Self-made oblivion, made by greed.