The principle of hatred
Stores in motion the mechanism of self-destruction
The world destroys itself, it even needs help in this.
It is so great and pure in it's own destruction
Mankind, nothing will heal your aching wounds
Nothing will close your gaping scars
Su
bstitute your vein – it's the injection of death
Listen to my voice,
I gathered the dying screams of
Human beings in it.
Close your eyes, follow the voice,
It will draw a picture of a pain in your sick mind
Are you happy? Do you like what you see?
No, don’t turn away your head, look, look up to the end
You bought yourself a ticket to the theater fall.
You paid for this, watch the show until the end.
This is just a reflection of your essence.
Now just repeat this mantra of hate:
World - die!
Society - die!
Mankind - die!
Moral - die!
World die!
Death is also a form of art
3. Sweet Decadance
Нависли как тучи печальные мысли.
Сдавила горло немая тоска.
Я чувствую скоро сломаюсь -
Суну в петлю голову я.
Я устал от бессоницы долгой
От своих грустных стихов я устал.
Я устал казаться нормальным.
Я устал, я устал, я устал, я устал.
Нет уже сил по барам спиваться.
Но и нет сил прекращать запой.
Нет уже сил хоть за что-то держаться
Весь мой мир словно не мой, немой.
Ни рыдать ни осталось желания
Не ощущаю живым я себя.
Я чувствую скоро сломаюсь
Суну в петлю голову я.
Когда перестану я думать о смерти?
Когда-же избавлюсь от самого себя?
Вошь я дрожащая или правда посмею
Убить... самого себя?
Oh, my darkness
My painfull goddes
Oh, my darkness
Oh, my sweet decadance
4. Total Leaning For Madness
Почему никто не веселится?
Разве не смешно смотреть на пьянь?
Почему никто не веселится?
Разве не смешно смотреть на рвань?
Почему не веселитесь, суки?
Аль отбило веселье у вас?
Почему не веселитесь мрази?
Всё это безумие для вас!
Вода, капающая с неба
Смоет горечь дня.
Склонность к безумию
Испытываю я.
Горечь, ярость, бред.
Здесь спасенья нет!
Горечь, ярость, бред.
Где искать ответ?
Где-то далеко это было,
Как будто очень давно.
В квартире во Львове, безумие отпустило
Но это было давно.
5. Bad T.RIP
Everything moves, changes color and shapes.
I hope to find answers in an acid slough.
But, I failed the task, my subconscious
Let me down.
And now I'm alone, entangled in the chains of my own fears,
Captive visios. Each of them is worse than another.
Bloodthirsty block. Headless sage.
Keeps his head in hands
And feed dead birds his wisdom
Do not hear my screams.
Horrible noise pierces through my body.
This is my own heavy breathing.
I'm at a funeral, I realized.
I realized this is my own funeral.
There's the grave, and over there I'm in a coffin.
I realized this at once. What have I done? Why?
What have I done? I really died, or am I dreaming?
My mind can not sustain all this
My nerves are about to give out. We must end this horror quicker
I have urgently shoot my head
All my fears will be out, together with my brain.
6. Song Written In Paris
Slowly, with measured steps
I walk, I walk and don’t look ahead,
I am forbidden to look around.
Forbidden by my convoy of anger and sadness.
Only they are my silent companions.
They lead me throught the streets of the city
The city, where I will be buried.
How long? How long can the hatred last?
You will ask me.
When it will swallow me - then everything will be over.
There’ll be a bile out of my mouth.
I am used to hate.
I can't do anything better than to hate and despise.
7. Sleeping Pills Suck
Спал ли я? Я просто вздрогнув, очнулся.
Я давно потерял сон.
Острая потребность заснуть.
Апатия. Мне уже всё равно.
Чувства, которые ещё не умерли
Льются крупными, красными каплями
Из моей измождённой оболочки.
У меня не осталось сил.
Мне уже настолько всё равно, что я готов
Нассать прям в штаны, чтоб не вставать.
Чтоб не вставать и не идти в сортир.
Зеркало показывает, что вместо глаз
У меня две чёрные дыры.
Это из-за таблеток для сна,
Которые них*я не помогают.
Ёб*нные таблетки, они не помогают!
Может проглотить их всех
И уснуть навечно?
Соседей будет беспокоить запах моего трупа.
Таким и надо! Ненавижу этих блядей!
Ненавижу эти таблетки для сна!
Ёб*нные таблетки! Они не помогают!
My joy is out of service.
That's how the bottom looks.
Emotional collapse.
8. Hangover
There’s a celebration in the street,
But what are they celebrating?
Oh, yeah, it’s like the day of the city.
The air is impregnated with the presence smell of these beasts.
Do you agree with this epithet?
They are of other race,
They are not people,
Or just the contrary, they are people,
And I'm probably not.
What’s the time?
It is obviously not morning.
But I will not leave my musty shelter,
I won’t merge with the crowd,
I won’t wait for the transport foolishly, I won’t go,
I will not wear the mask of normality, not today.
There’s a celebration in the streets.
It’s good that it’s Autumn,
I can close the curtains,
I can kill the noise with blanket.
And will not hear the sounds from outside.
Soon they will begin to break each others empty heads,
Crud, stupid scumbags.
There’s the celebration in the street,
But I have more important things to do.
I have to choose the name for my conscious loneliness.
There’s a celebration in the street...
9. Too Late To Call An Ambulance
He did not leave a note, they usually leave.
He did not even clean his room.
The reek of alcohol in the room
And you know, a peculiar smell of blood.
He lies on the floor, probably fell off the chair.
I immediately understood everything, as soon as I saw his face.
Pale, even white.
Through slightly parted lips
Appeared his yellow teeth,
It’s all over. There’s nothing here to do.
For nothing you circle him, trying to help.
No need to shout, I have a headache because of your screams.
He just got tired of being a bastard.
Do not try to return life,
Which emerged from a huge cut on his arm.
Too late to call an ambulance,
It's all over with him,
Too late to call the ambulance.
10. Thoughts Of Death
One question has been torturing me,
What was the last thought about?
In the head shot, in the head hung,
In the head decapitated,
In the head suffocated and smashed.
What was the last thought about?
My ship goes down, into the deep,
I'm all alone, the death is near.
I'm drowning in this dark cold water,
I'm not afraid, my mind is clear,
I see no light, I feel no fear,
No voice of suffering,
Only dark blue sea,
I put coins on my eyes,
I lay down, I'm waiting for you to come,
Please take me down,
I left no letter, no words are needed,
No one will know, no one will ever know,
My role of derelict was played with pride,
The death is here, it is so quite.
What was the last thought about?
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Listen to my voice,
I gathered the dying screams of
Human beings in it.
Close your eyes, follow the voice,
It will draw a picture of a pain in your sick mind
Are you happy? Do you like what you see?
No, don’t turn away your head, look, look up to the end
You bought yourself a ticket to the theater fall.
You paid for this, watch the show until the end.
This is just a reflection of your essence.
Now just repeat this mantra of hate:
World - die!
Society - die!
Mankind - die!
Moral - die!
World die!
Death is also a form of art
3. Sweet Decadance
Нависли как тучи печальные мысли.
Сдавила горло немая тоска.
Я чувствую скоро сломаюсь -
Суну в петлю голову я.
Я устал от бессоницы долгой
От своих грустных стихов я устал.
Я устал казаться нормальным.
Я устал, я устал, я устал, я устал.
Нет уже сил по барам спиваться.
Но и нет сил прекращать запой.
Нет уже сил хоть за что-то держаться
Весь мой мир словно не мой, немой.
Ни рыдать ни осталось желания
Не ощущаю живым я себя.
Я чувствую скоро сломаюсь
Суну в петлю голову я.
Когда перестану я думать о смерти?
Когда-же избавлюсь от самого себя?
Вошь я дрожащая или правда посмею
Убить... самого себя?
Oh, my darkness
My painfull goddes
Oh, my darkness
Oh, my sweet decadance
4. Total Leaning For Madness
Почему никто не веселится?
Разве не смешно смотреть на пьянь?
Почему никто не веселится?
Разве не смешно смотреть на рвань?
Почему не веселитесь, суки?
Аль отбило веселье у вас?
Почему не веселитесь мрази?
Всё это безумие для вас!
Вода, капающая с неба
Смоет горечь дня.
Склонность к безумию
Испытываю я.
Горечь, ярость, бред.
Здесь спасенья нет!
Горечь, ярость, бред.
Где искать ответ?
Где-то далеко это было,
Как будто очень давно.
В квартире во Львове, безумие отпустило
Но это было давно.
5. Bad T.RIP
Everything moves, changes color and shapes.
I hope to find answers in an acid slough.
But, I failed the task, my subconscious
Let me down.
And now I'm alone, entangled in the chains of my own fears,
Captive visios. Each of them is worse than another.
Bloodthirsty block. Headless sage.
Keeps his head in hands
And feed dead birds his wisdom
Do not hear my screams.
Horrible noise pierces through my body.
This is my own heavy breathing.
I'm at a funeral, I realized.
I realized this is my own funeral.
There's the grave, and over there I'm in a coffin.
I realized this at once. What have I done? Why?
What have I done? I really died, or am I dreaming?
My mind can not sustain all this
My nerves are about to give out. We must end this horror quicker
I have urgently shoot my head
All my fears will be out, together with my brain.
6. Song Written In Paris
Slowly, with measured steps
I walk, I walk and don’t look ahead,
I am forbidden to look around.
Forbidden by my convoy of anger and sadness.
Only they are my silent companions.
They lead me throught the streets of the city
The city, where I will be buried.
How long? How long can the hatred last?
You will ask me.
When it will swallow me - then everything will be over.
There’ll be a bile out of my mouth.
I am used to hate.
I can't do anything better than to hate and despise.
7. Sleeping Pills Suck
Спал ли я? Я просто вздрогнув, очнулся.
Я давно потерял сон.
Острая потребность заснуть.
Апатия. Мне уже всё равно.
Чувства, которые ещё не умерли
Льются крупными, красными каплями
Из моей измождённой оболочки.
У меня не осталось сил.
Мне уже настолько всё равно, что я готов
Нассать прям в штаны, чтоб не вставать.
Чтоб не вставать и не идти в сортир.
Зеркало показывает, что вместо глаз
У меня две чёрные дыры.
Это из-за таблеток для сна,
Которые них*я не помогают.
Ёб*нные таблетки, они не помогают!
Может проглотить их всех
И уснуть навечно?
Соседей будет беспокоить запах моего трупа.
Таким и надо! Ненавижу этих блядей!
Ненавижу эти таблетки для сна!
Ёб*нные таблетки! Они не помогают!
My joy is out of service.
That's how the bottom looks.
Emotional collapse.
8. Hangover
There’s a celebration in the street,
But what are they celebrating?
Oh, yeah, it’s like the day of the city.
The air is impregnated with the presence smell of these beasts.
Do you agree with this epithet?
They are of other race,
They are not people,
Or just the contrary, they are people,
And I'm probably not.
What’s the time?
It is obviously not morning.
But I will not leave my musty shelter,
I won’t merge with the crowd,
I won’t wait for the transport foolishly, I won’t go,
I will not wear the mask of normality, not today.
There’s a celebration in the streets.
It’s good that it’s Autumn,
I can close the curtains,
I can kill the noise with blanket.
And will not hear the sounds from outside.
Soon they will begin to break each others empty heads,
Crud, stupid scumbags.
There’s the celebration in the street,
But I have more important things to do.
I have to choose the name for my conscious loneliness.
There’s a celebration in the street...
9. Too Late To Call An Ambulance
He did not leave a note, they usually leave.
He did not even clean his room.
The reek of alcohol in the room
And you know, a peculiar smell of blood.
He lies on the floor, probably fell off the chair.
I immediately understood everything, as soon as I saw his face.
Pale, even white.
Through slightly parted lips
Appeared his yellow teeth,
It’s all over. There’s nothing here to do.
For nothing you circle him, trying to help.
No need to shout, I have a headache because of your screams.
He just got tired of being a bastard.
Do not try to return life,
Which emerged from a huge cut on his arm.
Too late to call an ambulance,
It's all over with him,
Too late to call the ambulance.
10. Thoughts Of Death
One question has been torturing me,
What was the last thought about?
In the head shot, in the head hung,
In the head decapitated,
In the head suffocated and smashed.
What was the last thought about?
My ship goes down, into the deep,
I'm all alone, the death is near.
I'm drowning in this dark cold water,
I'm not afraid, my mind is clear,
I see no light, I feel no fear,
No voice of suffering,
Only dark blue sea,
I put coins on my eyes,
I lay down, I'm waiting for you to come,
Please take me down,
I left no letter, no words are needed,
No one will know, no one will ever know,
My role of derelict was played with pride,
The death is here, it is so quite.
What was the last thought about?