On the air of the maestro of obscenities
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In high sobriety mode
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Straight from the depths of the snow-white I broadcast about
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Tom how things are on the ground
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Here primitive Mouzon sounds everywhere and
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All the ecstasy has gone somewhere
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Several zones are spread along the perimeter
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Concentration of malice and hatred
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People turn into pendulous walruses and
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Without the help of Howard Howe
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And the feelings of the victims are easily offended
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Until now, who have not found Valhalla,
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And the last stronghold of those who have not gone crazy in
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This chaos is looking for an outlet
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I tried to find peace of mind here, but
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So far only found indifference
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Such a joke - we are all going to waste here
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My best friends are psilocybin and Doug Stanhope
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All questions will be resolved, they will write an obituary for me
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After all, with such homies, I don’t need enemies
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My light at the end of the tunnel is oncoming
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The train that rushes at full speed
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My life is an endless search, or
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Invented by me, or someone's prank
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Self-confident, as always assertive
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I wander around the planet like a tenacious frag
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And until my conscience strangles me with a garrote
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So I will maneuver in the minefields
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Among the pretentious larva where the hookah smokes
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You won't see me - I'm not the one who
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For such a mover there will be something
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From space dust I am woven
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On the day when the colorful collapsed
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Rain and covered me with a drop of acid
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Everything became very clear without words to me ...
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What was behind there and what will be ahead
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Everything superfluous is forgotten and sent to the scrap
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Consciousness is dynamite, and I set fire to this fuse
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The universe is open, I'm on the right track
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What was behind there and what will be ahead
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Everything superfluous is forgotten and sent to the scrap
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Consciousness is dynamite, and I set fire to this fuse
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The universe is open, I'm on the right track
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Into the gut and with prayer, into the area of dazzling phantasmagoria
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Marathons and sprints - I participate in them much less often than I should,
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But until youth is over, then this is not anhedonia
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Metamorphoses of bizarre images, and I am again in pursuit of them
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They say that at the top of Mount Fuji there is such a breathtaking view
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They say that Alyosha from the next front door
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Got hooked on a screw
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Well, I'm in my fierce mood
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Fitted this tight little rip beat
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So fuck who says what - I'm flying away from you ...
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What was behind there and what will be ahead
|
Everything superfluous is forgotten and sent to the scrap
|
Consciousness is dynamite, and I set fire to this fuse
|
The universe is open, I'm on the right track
|
What was behind there and what will be ahead
|
Everything superfluous is forgotten and sent to the scrap
|
Consciousness is dynamite, and I set fire to this fuse
|
The universe is open, I'm on the right track |