A small, prosperous community begins absorbing technological advancements of the outside world, which they allow to dictate their malleable lifestyles. They are fed nostalgia and reassurance, and comforted by what's instantly gratifying and easily absorbed. Their dependency on it all guides them farther away from their true selves, restraining them from committing to anything else. Like the others around them, they blend in amongst the crowd of avatars, fearing to step out from behind their facade, which would reveal their true, weak, and insecure nature. Being a member of the group gives them an identity, despite having no individual voice. And so, they do as they're told, as they always have, overlooking and trampling anything pure or beautiful developing on its own around them, for it doesn't fall in line with the mission of the group. Their subconscious minds hint that what they do is wrong, but they're in too much of a narcissistic trance to acknowledge this inner voice, which has been oppressed for so long. Without inspiration or motivation to think for themselves, they forever become enslaved to whatever the mass trend instructs.
lyrics
Their demigods are figures of the past
Praised for their outcast contrast
Yet they aim to replicate all that their majesties hate
As the unsung heroes of the present are left famished
And without a stamp, they're left abandoned
If there's a desire to persuade
They'll only sense doubt in your ways
Advice from their device guides to entice
Passions that are discarded when new updates arise
Though each day never lets go
They're just too aloof to ever know
The burden of accumulation will linger and hiss
Consciousness is a curse, as ignorance is bliss
Behind the walls that they've built
They are deep beneath their quilt and warm facade
It feels secure and safe amongst the mob
Riding the wave of some collective, muffled voice
So far apart from reality's swollen heart
They drain the blood from their own
From high up on their throne and reap the loot, feeling astute
But at the root, they're just some remnant pile of bones –
Catacombs of someone else's relic moans
Crushing skulls in hell-bent march
Feasting on insecure à la carte
Only the victors will do the writing for us
While the seconds all go to waste
There cannot be creation from destruction
If the liberated spores are all erased
credits
from Carousel (Part II),
track released September 17, 2021
Recorded by Greg Norman at Electrical Audio in Chicago, IL
Mastered by Bob Weston at Chicago Mastering Service in Chicago, IL
Produced by Okapi
Scott Mitchell Gorski - Upright Bass, Voice
Lindsey Paige Miller - Cello
Songs, Lyrics, and Concept by Scott Mitchell Gorski
Cello Parts written by Lindsey Paige Miller
OKAPI is a duo which utilizes upright bass, cello, and voice through raw, intimate orchestrations driven by honesty and
philosophical content. We advocate the conscious confrontation with reality, rather than the subconscious avoidance or distraction from it, and encourage individual awareness, freedom, and healthy growth. We hope to inspire consciousness in all those who are willing to listen....more
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