1. |
Amazing (BodyStep edit)
03:08
|
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|
Everything is well balanced now
Your imperfect fellows makes you happy
You see the city blurry
This completely strange place
You become indifferent in dangerous places
Still you're glad that you have started off
That you have gone through with it alone
If you fall down, you stand up again
Sometimes you're not aware of yourself
You get frightened
Many things have changed
And you don't remember anything
No time for anything,
No time for anyone
No time for anything,
No time for anyone
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2. |
Useless
05:07
|
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|
Useless searching
Every light is blinding
Every voice is deafening
In my obscure memories' pictures
Every colour you are
I said the last word
The tune is recorded
The door is closed
Thoughts are dancing inside
I will be empty
So much that is empty
My energy is sucked towards a black hole
Useless searching
I survive my own weakness
My soul moves into a free tree
And blowing in the wind...
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3. |
69 Degrees
04:51
|
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|
I'm in a hurry on the grey road to you
While I'm skipping on the stairs my stomack turns
Pictures flashing slowly in my mind
Unexpected things irritate acridly in my throat
Frozen longings in her cones
Ice-cold and sweet dreams on her scoop
I'm looking as she's moving - soft breeze in her hair
The trouble on her face is hidden by the smile...
Sixtynine degrees
Stepping stones
Sixtynine degrees
I was with her
Sixtynine degrees
I have to go
Sixtynine degrees
(Then I forget)
I'd pick up a pin
And I'd scratch the sky above her
I'd shut the door behind myself
And I'd keep the secret that I was behind these walls
Her tattooed world is too colourless
Week-end party's emptiness - isn't enough for me
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4. |
Circulation
02:45
|
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|
I write the news
You don't know when I lie
Real thoughts, real dreams
Version of the full-life
I try to dance too
Despite the music isn't my style
I travel or escape
I haven't decided yet... all right...
This will be my yellow road with nothing to change
It is the circulation
Circulation of events
The needless thoughts are wiped
My head is clear in the open air
Old dreams, tired smiles
Some velvet phrase in your mouth
Dirty lusts, payable feelings
Second-hand words
Second-hand girlfriends
For sale
Imitation jewellery in a stylish dress
You're wrong if you think you see my actions
And you don't even guess the truth
This will be my yellow road with nothing to change
It is the circulation
Circulation of events
The needless thoughts are wiped
My head is clear in the open air
Old dreams, tired smiles
Some velvet phrase in your mouth
Dirty lusts, payable feelings
Second-hand words
Second-hand girls
Second-hand girlfriends
|
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5. |
Ordeal
03:33
|
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|
You are nothing without me...
I think it's an ordeal... an ordeal for me
I knew, you couldn't come
Without a plan
So my actions became
Desperately tryings again
You are nothing without me...
I think it's an ordeal... an ordeal for me
You are getting mad 'cause of coloured rustle
The distinction of dream and death
Your silence is lying
I knew, you couldn't come
Without a plan
So my actions became
Desperately tryings again
|
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6. |
Amazing
03:17
|
|||
|
Everything is well balanced now
Your imperfect fellows makes you happy
You see the city blurry
This completely strange place
You become indifferent in dangerous places
Still you're glad that you have started off
That you have gone through with it alone
If you fall down, you stand up again
Sometimes you're not aware of yourself
You get frightened
Many things have changed
And you don't remember anything
No time for anything,
No time for anyone
No time for anything,
No time for anyone
|
||||
7. |
Childhood
03:16
|
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|
Screams of the steel-wheels
Anxious rumbling
Cuts my body
I think I've already gone
And I bang the door
I wish I could fly up to the sky
Cemetery of the century
Tore bodies
Broad bloodline
Exploded notions
Fears and nightmares
The world's purulent ulcer
In the entreaty eyes of animals
As we evaporate from the universe
Our feelings are slipping away
On the noteworthy pictures
Of the global presence movie
Here on the endless ocean of time
Only the compulsion bears words
Life is dying
And screaming with sirens
The crackbrains of blood are
Moaning in fires
Ice in the machine
The cogwheels are rusting slowly
That nobody repairs
But all hands construct new things
And the index of production is rising and rising...
I try to clean myself
|
||||
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