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.