had no news from you lately,
Heard you doing well somehow…
Write me back, I’m waiting badly —
I had plenty of time to get down.
I’ve had no news from you for a while,
Heard you had ripped all the notes…
Write me back, I’m waiting this time —
Seems okay cause it’s true for us both.
False tunes keep driving the blues,
Or no one and nothing as deaf as my muse?
False gods never true in their rules,
Or no one and nothing as warm as the booze?
I’ve had no news from you long ago,
Heard things don’t come easy for you…
But how are dare to stop all these songs,
Whenever the lyrics inside isn’t true.
«In the case of the bad times…»
In the case of the bad times,
Mistaken ideas and broken promises,
Peaceful stupidity – what can you find?
In the case of the bad times,
Sweaty outfit of stolen rhymes
Never fits and never combines
In a case of the bad times
All partitions are stuffed, and pockets
Are full and even by side. But why?
In a case of the bad times and
Desperate moments which can’t make
You stronger, what can you try?
Why are you going down?
Why are you going down?
Why are you going down, sugar?
«Heavy toll As a tribute to the memory…»
Heavy toll As a tribute to the memory,
Like a tall post at the middle of a prairie
Stacks all dreams with the worst nightmares
Scary for those who have declined a dare,
Who have exchanged the fight for the prayer,
Under the pressure of imaginary player,
They’re so devoted to, they’re so afraid of.
Redemption is not escape, but just the day off.
When the rain falls down roads are getting wet
People get souse like they’re treading the deck
But there’s the one who’s dry, who seems to forget
That he’s a part of it, and should also be led.
He’s dammed for all life for making a bet that
the burns that he has are not from fire he’s spread
The scars that he has are not rom petting the rat
The Devil inside crumbles Lord in one’s head
«Oh little sinner…»
Oh little sinner
Hit your sinner’s road
No more debts over here
No more bless no more
Hit your road sinner
Wherever you can run to, son
Pain is kind of the mirror
Of what your soul can ransom
Where are you going to hide, boy
If the sun decides to rise
Where are you going to draw joy
If there’re no deeds to earn pride
Where are you going to run to
If there is no way home
Where are you going to fly to
Being under the dome
What are you going to live for
From the birth which you’re bound to
The righteous or bible whore
In the end They have the same route
«Break away…»
Break away
Anyway sometimes you’ve got to do that.
Pray for rain
To wash all your traces away.
Don’t be late
We have better stuff to mess about
Don’t look away
Accept that choice to save your face
Everything is a reason
everything is a motive
Your life is the fuckin prison,
your mind is a bloody key
Betray your fate
Be your own personal Jesus,
Don’t play the game
Which doesn’t have a winner.
«Wisdom always comes from the misfortune…»
Wisdom always comes from the misfortune
Freedom always used to have chains
Paybacks for someone turn out to be a torture
For the others vengeance is a kind of a grace
Kneeling down Crows in crowns
Tortured false of a fortunate louse
The seventh son of the break of dawn
Going round the gambling house
Send me back down to the Ekb town
For the rest in peace and fun
Thunder clouds over crumbled ground,
Dead-drunk clown staying down in the dumps
Screaming loud being blind and stunned
He is surely bound to die one more time
«Hang in there. For me…»
Hang in there. For me.
You my friend might know that
Getting on with a misery,
Can bring much more regrets.
Steps… I can here your steps
Downstairs. Are you still there?
Freedom isn’t cheap
Losses are to charge a debt.
No more hits and tricks,
The one to soar is the one who gets.
Breath… I can here your breath
Downstairs. Are you still there?
Why do we keep all that memories?
Why are we swept with recalls?
Why do focus on tragedies?
Cause