Performance by João Saboga on Paris Courthouse Project. Ateliermob - Generation Z, OASRS - Ordem dos Arquitectos, Lisbon, Portugal, November 17th, 2011. concept and performance: João Saboga directing and editing: Pedro Lucas Freire *Born like this Into this As the chalk faces smile As Mrs. Death laughs As the elevators break As political landscapes dissolve We are Born like this Into this Into these carefully mad wars Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness Into bars where people no longer speak to each other Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings Born into this ***To listen to the terror through the walls and walk all night with shoes stained with blood To wake up wrapped in emptiness and absence of memory *We were born into this Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes Born into this Walking and living through this Dying because of this Muted because of this Castrated Debauched Disinherited Because of this Fooled by this Pissed on by this Made crazy and sick by this Made violent Made inhuman By this The fingers reach for the throat The gun The knife The bomb The fingers reach toward an irresponsible god The fingers reach for the bottle The pill The powder ***And the echo repeats So far so good So far so good So far so good And I am here Slowly falling In a slow torture With the wind howling hatred into my ears and kicking as a mad horse towards the abyss Down there I can see it so clearly down there Streets paved with blood Heads smashed Arms and legs smashed Broken teeth Nothing forward Back Forward Back Back Back Back Repetition repeats repetition Repetition makes memory a little fuzzy like a drone drug We’ve long lost our innocence etc. etc. **I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. ***I can see it so clearly. Dogs howl Women in the desert A life of adventure with stars in cars and cheesy moon of romance and all that hollywood death love and gun comes flooding out of theatres on relentless re-runs Violence Purple White We’ve long lost our innocence. Between us No respect at all Between us no respect at all A life of adventure soon. Here. Here, we wait. Day after day A new batch of gullible fools Angels in elevators Fierce like lost heathen god shit fight still air No bleed or satisfaction. Don’t start a fire Don’t start a fire without me. Down here Doors shut Windows shut The furniture laid out For a greater comfort Each one with its place At his place Here Away from chaos. No one leaves No one wants to leave All is for sale. *excerpt from Dinosauria We by Charles Bukowski **excerpt from Howl by Alen Ginsberg ***May I burn the town down, Mom? by João Saboga
