At La Brava - Volume Two Of Red Desert Saga

by Souq

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A thin blue line Runs through the desert sky Reflected in my face Adventured herself in a place, without a name. No name, no sound succeeds… I saw them make that turn The tires screech The car vanishes… Tarmac Evades, escapes A “kill-her” pitch Shift up, head down Don’t make a (single) sound A thin red line Burns the highway. We drive by… The gasoline smell… hypnotize me A burning finger in my eye.
Maniqueen 04:11
A chocolate mannequin Over three decrepit buildings Living without shape or colour. Crowded streets, pathetic and broken Writing disfiguration By a grotesque figure with a suit. Impersonal limousines, through surrounding mazes And the imposition of the obvious and obscure… Underground structures in which we see graffiti letters As we smile, A delicious red smile. FASHION SLAVES REVEAL NOTHING (more than) STAR CLONES HOLDING CARDBOARD SIGNS BEGGING FOR ANYTHING BUT MY… ATTENTION. High, above the taxis Blue tin cans and all that black clientele Dance under our brightly coloured shoes. An uninspiring ceiling Soft, muted laughter. (A delicious red smile)
At La Brava 07:12
Our song plays and it is dark. We don’t see clearly, they move, the song continues Oh… so slightly, slightly… She straddles his chest Lean down, kiss him, Caress him, keep moving, Man… She’s so good looking He is low and vicious. The cards are resting, down at the side table. The white skin throat he grabs now smells like the devil. We’ve stayed behind all this time Loosing and tightening our silk ties Her tongue in his mouth pulsing like a heartbeat Handcuffs in his wrists EYES CLOSED… TIGHTER! STEEL RED MURDER… INSIDE HER! The job is done. She finally meets him: the Big Boss! Nice suit... Tall… Silver beard… - “The money’s here!” A classic beautiful face. Charming… The Aston Martin in the driveway. She looks away… Look away! A blank expression in her face (I know who you are) His eyes are dark… ravishing… Watches her body smiling… Off-balanced, tentative she goes ahead of him. He opens the Ferrari’s door and she gets in. Sharp turns in a dangerous road… Hum … this girl is poison… Dazzling woman!!!
A tall, elegant man, in a dark suit Emerges from the 9 mile road… After shooting them in the club “Milt” He felt like a king, whispering: Gunfire… I’M AN OLDER DOPE MAN ON THE T.V. I’M AN OLDER DOPE MAN FOR THE SCREEN I’M AN OLDER DOPE MAN ON THE T.V. JUST ANOTHER DOPE FIEND Celebrities, politicians, actor, models… Filthy crowd in a pigsty… The Bentley stops… The mayor happily poses for the “Madame”. - “Is Cynthia here tonight?” - “Room 36” – she says He sweats, she sweats… - “All I want is her skin in/and Cristal.”
Card Player 06:08
Eight men gathered, away from the struggle outside. Sounds are very close. Bums in the alley… Gunmen, extortionists and labour spies… The player closer to the window shuts it. Almost all the money is on the table. A couple more drinks and another cigarette. FULLHOUSE THE GAME IS OVER JACKIE WINS FULLHOUSE THE PLAYER LOSES JACKIE WINS Jack disappears through a door marked: MEN. He is waiting when the door is open. The right hand in his coat pocket A razor with his blade snapped open. (Jack gets his gun, pushes the player to the wall. They fight.) - “You are under arrest Joe Gyilkos!”
Point Blank 11:06
From now on there is no turning back And in your dreams, wonders will be real and blur. I’m so sorry for my air And for consuming your words And in the touch of your own skin The disharmony of your own skin The sharpness of your own skin … Is he/me! Mirrors and orange under skin The Super-Soul’s station in the next morning. ELIXIR OF VIOLENCE STAR OF MY OWN GALAXY MY HANDS ARE BURNT (‘CAUSE THEY) CAN’T HANDLE YOUR CLARITY I will wait for the doves In the face of a woman. But I never did ask if she was mine. She’s warm like ice And cold like my heart.
Feathers 08:34
An indistinct regathering of napalm mist. The air is too thick to breathe… our world is dead. The night summons to bed. I hear that faceless voice. Make me evolve in a universe of reflection. Enthusiasm and the weight of my disposition Plant a seed in my mind, over self-preservation You look like a “Blue Delta God”, talking to a goddamn chair. What is this? The burning bush… RED FLAMING SKY, FALLS WITH HIM INTO PARADISE INDIAN FEATHERS, PIERCE HIS THOUGHTS LIKE ICE (EYES)
Roy & Lee 04:04
Shouted goodbyes are heard They’re obviously hung-over An iconic eight-ball rides over the dashboard -“Pay no mind to that robbery!” She takes something out and snorts it A business man is waving his arm and screaming to the mob: - “Vote for no one… but me!” SHE BURNS THE GOLD ON THE TIN FOIL SHEET. HE CAN MANAGE TO INHALE THE PLUME OF SMOKE IN TIME. The phony pantomime is over He is mellow and in control. “She’s already zonked out on something, I suppose it’s coke.” A pile of brown heroin A tin foil sheet She’s preparing the implements for: - “Chasing the dragon in…”
Do not touch this. The best thing to do, here, is close our eyes. Cut off our tongue, Erase the cruel veins out of this room. Happy… the body‘s happy…my body’s happy Your body’s happy… Our body’s happy! ALL THE TIME I WRITE A LINE I CAN’T HIDE MY DESIRE Anguished by the lack of smoke I cough an evidence ball Rut, eat, oestrum, Animal cancriform We’re young On dry year’s blood!


released December 11, 2013

Bruno Barreto - Bass
Bruno Tavares - Vocals
Jorge Loura - Guitars & Vocals
Jorge Oliveira - Drums & Percussion
Paulo Gravato - All Saxophones
Rui Bandeira - Trombone

Produced by Souq & Xavier M.

Recorded by Xavier M., Miguel Marques, Lino Vinagre and Mário Pereira

Mixed and mastered by Xavier M.

Artwork by Ricardo Miranda


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Souq Aveiro, Portugal

Souq is a portuguese rock band formed in 2009.
Picking from their rock roots, Souq embraces psychedelia, blues, pop or jazz to build a sound that is always dynamic and hard-hitting, as if Captain Beefheart was playing Dave Brubeck songs with Black Sabbath as a backing band. The first result is the concept album "At La Brava - Volume Two Of Red Desert Saga", out now. ... more

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