We'll Build an Ark

by Seila Chiara

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Al
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Al Times change, and I no longer listen to many of my favorite albums of the past years. But not this one.

Some labels should fight for repress this beautiful album. Favorite track: This Is the Party.
Karel Hupjé
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Karel Hupjé A real pity this demo album has not been released as a proper cd or lp. It's a fantastic trip, with a lot of different styles. An emotional album, with superb composed and played music. A desert island album for sure. Favorite track: Stories Like Ants in New York.
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about

Demo LP

Released by Tokyo Jupiter Records in Japan as a CD-R :
1st press (11.2008) "Blue version" with Japanese translations - 100 Copies, 2nd press (03.2009) "Yellow version" with text explanations - 50 Copies

credits

released November 7, 2008

All songs written by Seila Chiara.
Recorded at home by Seila Chiara.
Mixed by Rafik El Alami.
Lyrics by Rémi Komornicki.
Artwork by Erica Dorn, Magali Tempère and Rémi Komornicki.

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about

Seila Chiara Lyon, France

So we were lonely and we made a few songs.

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Track Name: Mice on Drugs in Pretty Cages
We citizens fell with terrified looks
From hoses to scare away the crowds,
Our fingers like telephones.
TVs swam down these rivers
For fish to swallow our stupidity,
While we met through profiles and publicity.

This is me trying hard to turn into a ghost,
Comfortably contemplating
Great panoramic views of the city
Without me. Please, without me.

But in this satellite trash
It's all about gravity,
Malls and comely churches,
You, yourself and Jesus.
Originally buttoned-down,
And you did it on your own:
You should be awarded a medal
Or a bunch of neet gift certificates.

So lets clap our hands now,
Since we're all so damn good at it.

We Jane and John Does,
We'll disappear now,
We'll disappear now.

We drag our rusted bodies, taking baths in other people's homes.
We travel across the world to meet new people, and kill them.
We love our money, just like we used to love our kids.
We cut open our skinny wrists.
We break hearts, but not really.
We take over the world, with our too right ideas.
We strap guns to our bodies, because we hate them and we are men.
We chase each other in the midst of the night, some of us in blue, some of us just black.
We yell into a microphone, hoping to be acknowledged.
We are old and we accept, we are young and don't accept.
We are, we were.
We.
Track Name: This Is the Party
People.
People with their recent making up,
Perfect before trashing up.
People.
Strobe lights to forget in slow motion,
On a mission to trigger passion,
People.

I heard it was fun,
Like a story to tell.

So let's dance. Dance. Dance, dance.

People.
Quiet preys and loud hoorays,
A million different shades of failing days.
People,
Leaning, thinking of feeling
Another being with thoughts of giving.

I heard it was fun,
Like dreaming of life.

People, people.
Absorbing life through needles,
People, people.
Waiting for the devils.
Colored like a pearl,
Beginning to whirl around the world,
With on top: the king, the queen,
Her majesty the Queen,
And this coked-up pregnant girl.

I heard it was fun,
Like jumping off a cloud,
With people, and people, and people
Like snowflakes
Alone on Christmas Eve.

I'm alone I'm not alone.
Track Name: Stories Like Ants in New York
Incessant pain, forgotten,
He's considered it part of life
Since he opened up his eyes to the absence of
Well maybe if he seals them long enough?

He heard one day, of people that do have
This parcel of nothing locked inside
That swells as time crawls endlessly ahead
And drowns in a mirage you never reach.

He dreams of knowing what to dream of.
Oh, Mother Mary come to me.
The heat stretches his stomach,
Like a balloon ready to ascend.


A screen is staring at a stuffed couch,
The image is a falling sky.
A cloud of ash blurs the screen:
This is the end of the world.

But from nowhere,
Surges the man of solutions.
We will fight the devil!
The man spends millions and millions and millions
And millions of pens
And millions of toys
And millions of books
And millions of roads
And millions of schools
And millions of clothes
And millions of food
And millions of hearts
As he goes to destroy, yet again and again,
The usual innocents of war
That would have dreamed to live
The lives of three thousand.
But this is what you get when you mess with us.


He dies one morning,
His head blown up
By the dreams that never came.


A man sticks a sticker on his car:
God Bless America
He smiles and feels so (proud).

Kids put their right hand on their heart
We pledge allegiance to the flag
They smile and feel so (proud).
Track Name: Epilogue Day (Debut)
A plane divides the atmosphere,
A sharp orange thread, dissolving at its tail,
Cutting through morning's avenging beauty, in regards to the night.
A shadow is drawn at the shepherd's feet.
He's alone, contemplating this daily firework,
The sleeping village beneath him,
And god above (there's god above him) demonstrating.
(Pink, purple, yellow and, it's all red blue green).
The mountain's edges heat up, offering a burning red contour,
Like a red carpet for the advent of the sun.

This has been a pleasure, he says.
(Are you listening?)