1. |
The Rats’ Anthem
01:51
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I will be obedient as you want
I will faithfully look in your eyes
I'll be ready for your any command
I will be like you, I would not be me
I will be faithful dog on a chain
I'll be happy to shoot at your enemies
So give me the command I am ready to fight
I forget the word "no." Yes, yes, yes, yes!
Throw out the pity on the dump of history
Leave the freedom to complete losers
Do as I do, exactly, exactly, exactly in exactly
This struggle is not mine
My victory - my lobotomy
My non-conformism - little poster with Che Guevara
All responsibility - to say that you are guilty
Rats’ anthem - the foundation of my life
Rats’ anthem - the foundation of my life
Rats’ anthem - it is all our fight
Rats’ anthem - everything in life at the bidding
Rats’ anthem
I will be obedient dog on a chain
I will faithfully look in your eyes
I'll be happy to shoot at your enemies
So give me the command I am ready to fight
I forget the word "no". I am ready to fight
Yes, yes, yes, yes!
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2. |
The Dialogue
02:58
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Thousands of reasons to fear each other
Speeding up the pace, with every new step
Every look - a part of important
Comprehensive whole, comprehensive different
To Repeat to myself: "Everything will be fine"
Accelerate hourly rhythm of life and death
I am your god, I am your devil, this is the voice of reason
It is necessary to conceal, to suppress, to destroy, to forget
(After all, someone wanted to, because someone wanted to, because someone was allowed to.
After all, I let them!)
Willfulness will break out
Fooling your scope of suppression of me
Show you that in map of consciousness
There is no direct way long ago
To cut ideas with surgical precision
The punishment will be yours
Give a taste of madness of life
Outrage over the meaning; to tear off your flesh
It is impossible!
Because “me” is “we”, we - this is a common
No fractional, only a comprehensive whole
The general solution of a single path
One smile on a thousand faces
A single look at the pile of problems
At four in the ranks under the slogan
“Me” is “We”, “Me” is “We”,
(Zamyatin is wrong, Orwell has been mistaken)
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3. |
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Be calm, deadman, I'll write you a blank verse
Memories of you went in after you
They started in different ways, but soon became one
And I stand by the graves of nameless people
No sorrow, no tears, no desire
To learn who you were, what did you want
Hear stories of days you lived
You lived, tried, wanted, loved
But I see only the stones instead of your graves
Rain will destroy the traces of where you were
The wind will erase the names
Time will turn your body into powder
I see only the stones instead of your graves
Surrounded by the ghosts of days of your past
In this fall, like laughing at you
The fact that I am still alive, because I'm still here
The fact that there is still time, so that there is strength
By the graves of strangers, getting the rhymes
From forgotten lines and the meaning of life
I am calm: you are dead, but I'm alive
It's blank verse to a dead body
Life absorbs, dissolves me
Saps the strength from day to day
Solemn eulogy in every line of poetry
Poems, once written for you
Misunderstood desires, misunderstood suffering
Recorded by me on the path of life
Blank verse to a dead body
Blank verse for me
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4. |
At This Stage
00:37
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Dude, you strive for the recognition of the public
Build a career, like playing with blocks
You write, sing something that public requires
Remember, man, at this stage I'm only for myself
Don't care of your opinion, and of everything that is convenient to only you
Some people don't like the lack of meaning
But we're having fun and living,
We express our thoughts in positive aggression
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5. |
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Our dreams are our reflections
Road straight at hell from the depth of the eyes
Don't hide from its essence, from myself
Every demon of soul, every demon of me
Finds his flesh awake
Turn off the lights, get ready
Dive into madness
The silence - screaming, tears
Membrane in the blood, but it's just a dream
Concealing desire from yourselves
Driving conflicts of the Super-Ego in the unconscious
Calm, cool, normal
Essence - the tragedy, the diagnosis - is typical
But the night comes, the mind turns off
The demon inside turns to essence
Murder, violence, death, indifference -
Gears of personality, the mechanism is running
To wake up in a sweat from fear and horror
Hide your personal consciousness in hell
Inflamed consciousness
And feel the taste of blood in the mouth
But the night comes, the mind turns off
The demon inside turns to essence
Shame and disgust are climbing out
Unable to hide my Ego in myself
Road straight at hell from the depth of the eyes
Our dreams are our reflections
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6. |
Boring Life
02:07
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Yes, I want to change my mind
Yes, I want to blow my brains
Smudge my normality on the wall
Cut to pieces the logic of life
This boring life drives me crazy!
I like the idea of killing my wife
I like the idea of killing my father
This boring life drives me crazy!
Yes, I want to kill wife
Yes, I want to kill my father
Yes, I want to kill myself
Yes, I want, want, want
Every day is another day
Every day is not my day
A boring life, boring life
Boring life drives me crazy
Drives, drives me crazy
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7. |
Your Aim
02:13
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And you won't understand what happened
A clear aim, just forward
A clear understanding of the way
The heart beats faster and faster
This is it, what you have waiting for
What feeds you from the inside
What gives you meaning and happiness
A clear aim, understanding the way
All is behind, just aim is ahead
Are you sure now?
Are you sure that this is it?
Dummy target, false true
Second doubt and you're in a void
Are you sure now?
Are you sure that this is it?
A clear aim, clear ideas
Not an ounce of doubt
The body is burning, bursting forth
You're tearing to victory
Do not want to even think for a second
Is this your idea?
It is impossible to doubt, it is impossible to argue
You're pretty sure
And you do not understand what happened
When you think about it and question your aims
When you realize that you are now in a void in this world
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8. |
The typical d-beat
01:02
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Short text similar to slogans
All clearly and directly to you in the forehead
The typical d-beat is concise and clear!
Two lines is enough to express the position
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9. |
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And we do not know what will happen when we leave
Dissolving over time
Leaving only our name on the forgotten graves
By attempt to grow together with infinity
In a race with death coming off of happiness
Deeper and deeper digging into the grave of negligence
Only time! Only time will judge us all!
Raise and burn morality principles of our children and fathers
Burn the land with war, explaining that this is a caring about the world
And death will take us all to infinity
Leaving the tomb on the barren land
Another unnamed sons of the fatherland
We will see them in themselves, reveling in careless
By silent fear will renounce from the future
Being afraid to give his name - the humanity!
Only time, only time will judge us all
As silent judge dissolving us in itself
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10. |
March of the Dead
02:01
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Postapocalyptic world order
Wherever you look around there're ruins
Scorched steppes, closed cities
New war in this world
Do you hear a siren howling in the distance?
Listen, how walls are shifting above us?
You see, staggering, shades are approaching?
March of the Dead is coming to us
March of the Dead clearly beats its rhythm
March of the Dead - new anthem of gone world
You and I can not escape from the fate of the dead
They have prepared a place in the column for us
Go on, take their turn of dead
Slender column approached the crowd
Each death will tell you that he's dead
Dead bodies and blood, empty trenches
Do you hear the siren? Do you hear, go!
March of the Dead!
War nameless!
March of the dead beats its rhythm
War of the nameless, the attack obedient
Hatred of life - their procession
We can not escape from the fate of the dead
We have prepared a place in the column
March of the dead beats its rhythm
Go on, take their turn dead
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11. |
I'm a Loser
03:32
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Goddamn, I'm really glad
That I still can breathe
Can understand, can realize
Everything that happens around me
Somebody on a roadside of life
And I'll find myself there soon
And I'm not owing you anything
And I'm glad that I'm a loser for you
I'm a loser for you
Forward, forward, forward, forward
Run, run, run, run
Catch, catch, catch, catch
Something brilliant will warm you with crunch from the inside
I don't understand your perverse world
Where desire possesses you
In your eyes I'm wasting my years
In my eyes you're wasting your strength given by the nature
Like you have a program inside
Look into yourself
Run to the psychologist for a drop of an understanding
What's happening in your undermind
This strange world strange for you
World without friendship, honor and family
I'm a loser in your life
I'm a loser for bunch of people
But I realize that I can see
On the world of narrow-minded dead ideas
Rejoice life, simply communicate
Without getting profit or payment
You can't live even day like I do
You can't look on yourself openly
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12. |
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The eyes open to a blue telephone
In the bathroom of this five-star hotel.
I wonder whom I should call? A plumber,
Proctologist, urologist, or priest?
Who is blessed among us and most deserves
The first call? I choose my father because
He’s astounded by bathroom telephones.
I dial home. My mother answers. “Hey, Ma,”
I say, “Can I talk to Poppa?” She gasps,
And then I remember that my father
Has been dead for nearly a year. “Shit, Mom,”
I say. “I forgot he’s dead. I’m sorry—
How did I forget?” “It’s okay,” she says.
“I made him a cup of instant coffee
This morning and left it on the table—
Like I have for, what, twenty-seven years—
And I didn’t realize my mistake
Until this afternoon.” My mother laughs
At the angels who wait for us to pause
During the most ordinary of days
And sing our praise to forgetfulness
Before they slap our souls with their cold wings.
Those angels burden and unbalance us.
Those fucking angels ride us piggyback.
Those angels, forever falling, snare us
And haul us, prey and praying, into dust.
The morning air is all awash with angels
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13. |
Raw In Dirty
07:56
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instrumental
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Empty Conversations Karaganda, Kazakhstan
We are Empty Conversations. We live in Karaganda (Kazakhstan, Middle Asia). We surely can say that our region is incompatible with hardcore and any kind of punk music. But in spite of this fact we keep playing hardcore even because we like it. As far as possible we record our songs and upload it to you survey. And if you wonder if punk music exists in Kazakhstan, we can declare that it does. ... more
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