Мёртвый Груз - Внутри Гниения Гиены - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Dead weight - hopelessness forever, we send greetings to the fucking earthly pen - “You saw Vasya’s treasures in it,” look how it slowly extinguishes along the highway. There is no power, the runway is no longer suitable. The country has become so clean for shellfish. I used to fly like Nico Rosberg, now I’m lying wrapped in a white sheet and shouting “Satchitananda.” Unraveled hair, a beard covered in mush, cut hands, swollen legs, crazy people, gray-haired like stones in the depths, in their hearts there are cracks, poisonous snakes are hidden there, tyrants sell pathetic spectacles - “They are setting up slabs for fuckers” - I’m drinking with the guru in Tiruvannamalai Amrita. Isn’t the world really so damn wonderful, tell me Ramana, or let this body rot, because the body is not mine, the body of a fucking creator, let the creator live here, and under his own sweat achieve samadhi, I am beyond the aisles of nirvana, beyond the aisles of your worlds fleetingly insipid, the people are already corpses, the bandit rabble under the dead dome create a milky way for goats, for herd morons, sheep and wolves, for local wickedness crowned cattle in robes, which are nits removed from the dead abyss. I give you love, bitch man, bitch man-man, man-ass, hyena, worm, microbe and fuck the gods.

Fuck your gifted feelings to me - if you fell out of your father’s dick.

Fuck me with your fortune tellers and human larvae - if you don’t know yourself kinder.

Fuck your story, little people, if you fuckers send spades at each other's ribs.

Arrogant, narcissistic nerds, sick psychos stoned by life.

Fuck your gifted feelings to me - if you fell out of your father’s dick.

Fuck me with your fortune tellers and human larvae - if you don’t know yourself kinder.

Fuck your story, little people, if you fuckers send spades at each other's ribs.

Arrogant, narcissistic nerds, sick psychos stoned by life.

Here, shitty romantics brew a potion, cast spells on the shit and make glue out of it. They themselves are not worth a damn, a pathetic disgrace of Adam’s piece looking at this world with their ass. Look wider bitch, look deeper bitch in the guts, for the heat they climb on the suckers, exterminate either ganders, or Prussians, or fucking patriots in order to get through sadhana to the required weights. In your pussy are the poles, in your pussy are also the masses thrown as food for the demons - “shoot yourself”, the priests are talking heavenly bullshit, filling you with colossal delirium. What is sacred to me is passed off as false flights, all communication under a machine gun, deliverance from evil is poured onto a donkey by putting honest masks on the faces of assholes - “let’s look at both.” Here Najevicius Miches is smoking at the bottom, the wind and underground sutras are smiling at us. The terrible louse has been on the run for a long time, where the churchmen practice kama on their corpses. Half bloomed on the graves of the urban, half rotted in the open spaces of the garden, everywhere the army sucks dick as always, since those times it has been fighting for the interests of the down.

Fuck your gifted feelings to me - if you fell out of your father’s dick.

Fuck me with your fortune tellers and human larvae - if you don’t know yourself kinder.

Fuck your story, little people, if you fuckers send spades at each other's ribs.

Arrogant, narcissistic nerds, sick psychos stoned by life.

Fuck your gifted feelings to me - if you fell out of your father’s dick.

Fuck me with your fortune tellers and human larvae - if you don’t know yourself kinder.

Fuck your story, little people, if you fuckers send spades at each other's ribs.

Arrogant, narcissistic nerds, sick psychos stoned by life.