Театр Яда - Иной распластан и фосфорицит хиросимо-кроваво - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

hallucination looks around the house

in the holy galloping light of punitive spheres.

then:

leads down

Can not hear -

stationary descent -

a little lower -

the drifting rise of that

who once was

from above -

closer -

until dusk

hanging like a broken crystal lichen -

looking back -

through the through -

heart in the borscht-eyed ribs.

he is spread out and phosphoricite

there are about two of us.

guide in the same spirit -

barely visible under the ice cover -

crickets with eyes of sonorous berries of poison -

outside the city gates -

the groans of the wedding Saturnalia of twilight -

And we -

we string it all the way on top -

Hiroshimo-bloody -

gouache -

layer by syllable -

cruel -

more -

scouring the future -

phosphoriaphorismo -

imaginary memes -

swallowers of golden pipes horror before the primordial horror of the originality of horror before the primordial horror of horror the body of a god stung tightly must be buried in the body of the primordial earth the earth must be washed with oblivion of the buried body of the desired god with a sting to carve out a furrow of a deaf timid body in front of the buried full-blooded volcanic god in order to be afraid of the deafness of the body before the horror of primordiality in the name of the primordial fear nothing is required lava washes any edges no matter how gently they ooze no matter how the emptiness travels in any knowingly leading is known while where from where after and before while the after-milk horror of primordiality cackles with consolation the last sons after and before the primordiality the firstborn with carved foreheads of horror tide the moon is humming with the body and the earth, buried tightly, is retreating; the feather is sprinkled; the web is torn by the inalienable voices of lethal objects in the distance; something is collapsing; the starfish, bronze from the hundred-year-old mud, have lost control; the horror of the primordial horror of originality; time has stopped and gone even faster