Lyrics from album „Křikzticha – Křikzticha“

Capitalism kills (Kapitalismus Zabíjí)

(text: Kolona, Smrad; rap: Kolona, Smrad, Afarastafa; beat: Annodomini)

capitalism, bloodthirsty hyena which don’t leave victims far away from its almighty torso,

programmed for self destruction, but its power grows by each another victim,

under this foot there’s no grass growing, blood will flow and sweat couldn’t soak,

full rev machine powered by ourselves.

forced labour, death to the traitors, jail for disobedience, bliss for unconscious.

link of the sprocket is grinding your bones, so what, we must fulfill the plan.

modeled middle class, shapeless mob of brainwashed heads,

like a tool of new world order and their third world factories.

face up against capitalism, neoconservatism and neoliberalism,

they’re wasting your life, feeding you with lies and watching your steps.

we have power, despair and hate inside of us, but holding under the lid,

if we let them to oppress us, we will never feel the taste of social (r)evolution.

world crisis – just another bullshit, banks made this, just for putting more money into the cash-flow,

government can make all their cuts, feed the labour market by fear.

owners of the companies can make whatever they want, when mob with its insecurity, mortgage and hungry family waiting behind the company doors.

why is this strikes good for, while unions are rotting by strikebreakers, bribed bastards and crappy tripartite ruled by capital – dark lobby army.

these, who constructed a crisis must feel the payback – world bank, european union, united states, IMF, G8, they are the killers!

Crime thinking, anticapitalism can’t be just a weekend pose of youth rebellion,

game for the called, hated and for your gurues – guerilla gorillas from ghetto.

also your parents, hardworking people, bum from the street and pensioner,

will more instruct themselves from your permanent honest revolt than

from easy entertainment for medias and for those who consider media like an executor.

Delusion (Sebeklam)

(text&rap: Smrad, Kolona; beat: Phoenicz)

Why reproach people that they are lying to others, while we mostly lie to ourself,

try to stand straight to the truth in your head, you beg the fall from boundless heights.

just questions and no answers, you feel like trestle in waves,

tomorrow I will deal with everything – your daily merciful lie.

illusion nestle down in your head, voluntary blindness hide it well,

but reality achingly got remembered, new lie covers the old one.

you reproach to people their lies and delusiveness, but you are walking with them on bad path,

till you don’t open your coward eyes, you’ll never reach the sincerity.

Delusion, it will follow you to the doom, keeps you in world out of reality,

wake up or start to dig up graves for your dreams, which haven’t got any senses.

Our coats are flowing by the air course, finally they reach the same junkyard,

where they rot with leftovers of us, whose lived happily with eye patch.

perpetual questions vanished from our heads, calmed down waves in our souls.

extinguished our voices once for all – I’m daily persuaded by the others.

Scream (Vříškot)

(text&rap: Tma; voice: Dar; beat: Shadowville)

You said that you just want to have your small piece of place, where tales and voices have their reason,

you said that you’re finding yourself in the dark and light, that your place is in other world,

on rucks of rubble as you’ve faded away in horizon / dreams were destroying pylons of your securities and your resistance.

You’ve just wanted to hide and be alone, they binded your hands / sleeves in the back,

they wanted to get in your head / bend your brain / they tried to heal your ideas

by pillules at 2 o’clock, than at 6 and 8,

ideas which were screams of your soul / tales, which you can’t oversleep,

they woke up your fear / so you moved away / to find your piece of place and true reason,

you’re extending your hands, begging for the piece of place / for attention / echo of your words,

begging for consent / for a chance and possibility,

to look in your eyes and don’t feel strange,

to look at the world by eyes of your friends.

You often see things, which I can’t.

You often hear voices, which I can’t.

You’re far away on the places where I’m often looking,

I remember as you were afraid to switch the lights off,

you’ve seen places, where the demons and shadows are extending their hands,

where your soul is screaming, it’s no time for heroes,

you’ve seen places, which woke up your anxiety,

hands of your friends were not the shelter, which can rescue you,

stop you, heal you.

“We are victims, yes we’re victims of demons, which cursed us.

My demon is desire, desire to belongs to this world,

world, which rightly refuses to accept me,

because I’m different. I’m not belong to this world..”

(it’s a poet of one teenage girl suffering by schizophrenia, which was written before she killed herself)

strong people are marching away, they not see that you’re scared and quaking in the corner,

that you’re afraid of voices and time which stops your life path.

Human head is mind-bender / every sentence is allegory

human head is mind-bender / voices in your head are giggling

I hear echoes of screaming of your soul – I don’t switch the lights off – I’m afraid you fall asleep

I hear echoes of screaming of your soul – I don’t switch the lights off – I’m afraid you die.

Pieces of truth in your head have been enclosured and they killed your fantasy,

I see your fear like a tale in the movie, person turns into the suicide.

you gave your life into the game / He have to loose,

hope you’ve found place, where you can hide

hope you’ve found the place, to calm down the tainted brain,

shelter, where the voices don’t hurts you,

hope you find reason and answers in death / once time you answer me,

I’m going to meet you…

In the Grip of the Beast (Ve spárech bestie)

(text&rap: Smrad; beat: Shadowville)

The smell of the fear and stress smells in the air,

it always was and will always be necessary to feed the apetit of the beast,

however you can’t feed its hunger.

Blessed by the hand of power it wallows in our blood,

without any scruples and mercy it enjoyes those massacres,

which as well as thousand times yet in the history hold the status quo.

Flames of borders color the skyline into the red,

terrible scream and the stench of the burned flesh,

the dark masquerade of the inquisition is all around

and a man spitting on the body of his women,

whom they tortured to death earlier, t

han she was able to accept the catharsis by the fire.

The beast has always a taste to kill,

those in power won’t ever stop being afraid about the power,

the blood will run, be sure, whoever you are from the opposition,

because by the act of inadaptability you’ve earned the brand of the dead sufferer

for a few of those, whom they will allow to remember.

The control, the opression, the intimidation, the persecution (it’s just the beginning),

mass graves and world wars, the death, pain and suffering

are just a piece of beast’s skills,

the beast gladly decieves yet and keeps humanity on the bridle

and it is the only one, which is able to learn from the history.

How the power is getting rid of the threat today probably?

It slowly legalize its elimination.

Medias, a funnel into the head of society, will gradually induce you to hate anyone.

Once it should be terrorists or rather the whole middle east, to hell with it,

send there the army and rid us of that threat.

Of course, they also carry the fucking blame, but what would you do,

when you would lose your family

and they would give you the opportunity of vengeance to architects of those crime?

IT IS DIFFICULT, they send leftist rappers to the jail in Canada,

here they are following fucking nazis, of course, they are bastards,

but the state doesn’t care about that

and the beast is just waiting for the right climate

to erase the idea of resistance from the surface

and tear to tatters the slightest possibility

to endanger the dictate of the pyramide of power by the critique.

Hence I will henceforth carry the heritage of defiance towards next generations,

descendants of witches, who will dig out their ancient rage and pain

and they will get their revenge, the revenge of all those buried for the joy of elites.

Zerone (Nulajedna)

(text&rap: Kolona, Smrad; beat: Srandabeats-Fogosh)

All the things you need for life you’ve got from the machine full of zero&one,

universe wisdom bought on hire purchase, which makes us alone,

just by one click I’ll open a fairy tale, where I’m important and cool,

not a member already? Be a member, we’re sending a kiss to you.

you are outstanding, let’s spread your shit around the world,

you’ll be blessed, when somebody console you that you are best and unique…

member of swivel chairs society…

Time is running better on felicity flow, you can enter any ego,

you’ll need just login and password and you can build people like lego cubes.

with pleasure we are inflating our bubbles to be a cynosure of this scum,

which cares just about themselves – no, it’s your showtime.

Me, like holy temple, but accessible like mistake,

clear like mountain water, bitter like a saliva,

which comes out from pure hate, rotting in layers like autumn leafs,

rotting under other problems.

tell the world, how is it going with you, you are searching yourself in the mob,

having no idea, how to deal with this challenge, when every advices turned to ash ,

lets hope, that somebody will find you, give you the arms and stick with you.

it’s not that bad, as everybody thinks, if you can choose where to go,

and while you become morph as the others, don’t forget to erase your profiles,

which hold you back in that and damp your hope.

Have you ever thought how is it so easy to drift apart of yourself?

One day you’ll wake up and recognize that the one, who is brushing tooths by you is just a creation,

your structure secured by staging of lies and false roles,

collage made out by words you’ve never said, with full mouth of words which have not good taste.

with good appetite, with good appetite.

You’ve threw out your naturalness into the same hole with your conscience,

just before you feed it out by sweet denial of your beautiful deficiency,

just before you feed it out by sweet denial of your beautiful difference,

it will get heavy and whats next? Throw it into the hole? Kill?!

As well as everything which comes out with all these unfamiliar dreams, which you blindly follow,

all these unfamiliar goals, which you imbrace like a manual-peak of life,

all these unfamiliar rules, which will shit on your head for ever.

not only the truth fingered by everybody remains,

also your mistakes have the right place here,

so welcome home in the sewer, where air is cleaner…

Freegan

(text: Smrad; rap: Smrad, Kolona; beat: Phoenicz)

If you wanna make critical hit to the global economy,

give up shopping malls and check out the dumpster.

they’re filled up by fastidious people rolled by fashion trends,

and there’s lot of things waiting for us after them.

handbags, watches, bath cabinets, presents for grandmothers, pants, cups,

get food and drinks one’s whack, theres everything, so let’s start.

turntable, microphone, speaker, stamp collection and also kid tractor,

there’s, mmmm, everything you want, so come on, before you’ll get softer.

throw away your shyness, speak to your comrades, make a trash brigade,

you’ll see, you’ll find some perspective containers.

dumpster diving – set me free free from shitty market circulation,

dumpster diving – is my “fuck off” at practices of multinational corporations,

dumpster diving – is my run through the web of capital propaganda,

dumpster diving – is declaring of war to market economy.

maybe it’s funny to you, maybe little bit nasty,

but maybe you’re little bit skimmy in that way,

it’s the time when hunger and poverty are spreading death,

harassing our lives and filling out the prisons.

It’s the time when money make the truth, and when truth is for sale,

It’s the time when rich rule the government and when poor don’t want to riot,

It’s the time when wars are for oil and when corporations are profiting from regimes,

It’s the time of bloody capitalism and dumpster diving is one of the way how to stay clean.

Blinded by reality (Zaslepen Realitou)

(text&rap: Phoenicz, Kolona; beat: Phoenicz)

I’m walking down the sidewalk blinded by reality,

and I’m not listening to the voices in my head, which lies to me all the time.

When I step out of sidewalk, you know, really out,

it’s sometimes better to walk down the road.

But you have to ride on road, not to walk on,

so I’ve just come somewhere where I’m not belongs to,

Anyway nobody is able to kick me off, if so, they must kick off themselves

because they’re walking on the same sidewalk.

And me, which is perceiving reality, displayed in music,

images have also magic, but you have to learn about it,

literature is not for me, but I care about literature ideas,

theater is just a tale and speaking persons for me.

Maybe it’s because I’m blinded by reality,

Reality which gives me advices, how to miss the roundabout.

How? You’ll understand after every thing will have a reason,

act will have consequence and you’ll get punished crime.

But after I’ll vanish, I’ll not forget these promiscuity ideas,

modern woman versus oldtime man, it’s enough!

I have eyes open, but I see only my reality,

I don’t see any doors, but I’m trying to find a handle in the dark.

All windows are open, but there’s no draught,

reality is maybe the thing, that they’re closed.

But as the point of view is changing, one time from the top, then from below,

for that we have this credited handle.

If you loose time concept, or the time will loose concept about you,

start to think about that, if is not so late for excuses to your ex-ex-ex-

although ex is dumb, he/she well knows that theres no way to solve,

sharp, quarrel, he/she just wants to compose and live well!

If you say “don’t deal with that”, I’ll deal with that more than before,

because reality is not all the things, which I hear and see along me.

And then it hurts, it ached also before,

but not so much, but I’ll talk about it, after I down my passions little bit.

Blinded by reality I’m waiting for my destiny

destiny is waiting at my home, so I’m searching my home.

I’m not living where I live, as I lived till now,

I’m not rolling the rules, I’ll travel to the empty island.

Blinded by reality, I’m running ahead of myself,

Why you’re running out? Life is nice, you know.

Say “peace and love”, but it’s not reality anymore,

so what is lie and what is truth, damn…

I’m walking beside of you, but in other street

both of us knows that we are in the same city, but we are divided by the others

for every mistake my superego is bleeding,

so I’m doing these things, which makes me “better”,

I’m blind, so I don’t see that it failed,

bloody footprints signs your precise shot,

this shot wasn’t discharged for nothing,

reality makes an easy target from me.

So shoot, I’m there for you entertainment,

my tiny life ends by your memory ,

and as well as yesterday, spacy by reality,

I recognize that somebody like you is not really existing.

You have my whole collection of souls in your hands,

these, which changed me to my actual version,

I will conquer the path which you stake out as a first one

and then I will satisfy myself by my own catharsis

I’m setting up my excuses preemptively,

few banal phrases will solve everything.

cheap key back to the reality (again?),

key which you’ll throw away.

And it’ll join up, turns into the big monster,

and dig inside your brain,

and it will not let you go and as the others before,

you’ll taste the shade of gray reality.

Blinded by reality, I’m waiting for my destiny,

destiny is hiding inside me, so I’m searching myself

It’s seems like a frail thing, as I’m thinking at myself,

so finally it will come also on you.

Blinded by reality, I’m running ahead of myself,

you’re running ahead of me, because you’re scared,

you’re remembering the time, which is reality no more,

so what is lie and what’s really truth?

Attacks of thoughts (Útoky Myšlenek)

(text&rap: Tma, Smrad; beat: Phoenicz)

We’re less and less, those who gonna fight,

for the ideas, acts, dreams and ideals,

I’m afraid to say, that we still trust,

that these things we’re doing are going to fulfill us,

that our ideas are the most valuable property,

and that it’ll gonna hardly change somehow.

We’re inconvenient, unwanted, pushed away, emancipated,

they wants to integrate us-prick us out-we are army of dreamers-unwasted,

covered by billboards of social insecurity, starving on the peripheries

dropped into the loneliness without values, prisoners of your ideas and hysterias

emancipated-pricked out-inconvenient-making on strange beds,

during the day with extended hands, than during the night hidden in underground,

I’m afraid, that I’ll became the same person, hardly like that,

that I’ll not catch the responsibility of my acting,

that I’ll not proudly act like a hero during the night.

Giving up our beliefs is way to the martyrdom,

silentness-indolence in our chairs-answering only if they’re asking,

briefly, without any sense-repeating words from newspapers and TV,

Giving up ideas, acts, dreams, visions – became strange to ourself,

don’t understand.

I’m not replying the answers, I’m out of conception.

They wants to suck me out with all the trash and clean out the rest of the visions under the ground,

where the roots gonna take me, they’re waiting for me and they’re thirsty – come on,

I hear their voices and strong appeals, I’m tearing chains of obedience,

and I’m not afraid to destroy the threat.

I’m afraid that I’ll fall down in my eyes once,

that I’ll turn back to myself and laugh to the face of all my pernoctations,

which makes me clear-maybe not-maybe I’m still walking down the mist,

but at least I know that without a storm all of us will die by this planted humid.

I’m afraid that I’ll forget those thing which is not able to forget-who I am,

that they’ll brake me, subjugate me, that I’ll destroy wall of my principles,

like a house made out of cards.

That I will stab myself, kick myself into my face and hit my balls,

and all of this just because of false sureness, that I’ll live my damn life in repaid house,

12 hours in factory – 8 hours of sleep and 4 hours of spending money,

everyday content of life torso in security.

I’m not satisfied with established rules, where the authority is paid grade

and salaries are bread and game, which shuts up our mouths with smile.

So for that I’m doing all of these bad things, which you may despise!

So for that I’m thinking about more bad things, which finally hit the world

and pull you out of mug of obedience to this ancient lies and mistakes…but who knows?

Bloody mantra (Krvavá mantra)

(text&rap: Smrad, Kolona; beat: Shadowville)

Thousands of lives are daily sacrificed for apparent needs of society

Thousands of lives are daily tortured to death for maggots of human crassness

thousands of being saw the light of living just for feeding our selfishness

thousands of us turns to murderer in case of social indolence

every day they’re spread the blood of innocent, like a slaves of united beauty

every day they’re bloodily remembering fake dominance of human race

every day they’re profiting from death and filling their wallets

every day they’re cruelly torture the innocents for entertainment of society

ordinary genocide of animal kind

in the name of private property law

legislature blessed by government, without mercy

under the reign of multinational corporations which turns the life into the product

the human mass is messing in their lies, which have their own price in the shop counter

fooled by tradition and informations, which this murders keeps alive

they’re still defends their relentless truth – bloody mantra:

“my body needs meat for life, without that I will die,

animal is there for food, so why you wanna change that?”

and you’re still closing your eyes – you don’t wanna see torment, not to see is more easy

and plugging up your ears – you don’t wanna hear the truth, truth which is harmful

you’re eating leftovers of your humanity, you choose way of indolence

you’re eating leftovers of your humanity, you choose way of impassibility

each way have the crossroad, you can live differently.

just open yourself, shuck out of the cage and try to be a vegan.

Snowflake makes the avalanche, every person have a power

drops makes the ocean, which is able to do a big wave.

Like you (Jako vy)

(text: Kolona; rap: Kolona, Smrad; beat: Tofu Thrasher)

that bitterness on tongue which devalues a saliva

and glory of our ancestors, whose wasted their blood

for something which destroys, asleep and daunts us,

daily hurts us and downcasts us.

and as a neck phlegm is scraping, sun is still reign,

and we and our peed off faces which thinks that everything is fucked up,

which rolls their stuff for shutting down their hips,

we’ll fall asleep and flow with the wind,

which smells like fume exhaust, cigarettes and beer

-I didn’t chose this, so wear a respect,

take off your mask and spread out your theses how everything is pissed off,

as well like a stone you are sinking into the bottom,

and then I can finally bounce from the bottom on dry land and establish new world,

where dope and society of bastards will not reign,

and then I will lay on my back and recognize that I’m the bastard.

I created, feed and brought up myself, while others were dreaming and I regret,

that dream is like a mist – you’ll get lost and (nothing),

and you are there, where the others are, doubtful and informal,

because all the things that rocks are aimless like your expensive clothes.

so why are you at war with others, while the war is elsewhere?

In your head – nowhere else.

And that mess which you have in your head, I have too – you’re not alone.

Because that evil I point at, I make by myself, by my existence,

we can shake our hands all together, because everything is going so easy.

with smile for another day and we know how to deal with everything,

no, no, just no retreat,

because we are creating the evil,

that bulletproof glass,

that eternal awkward alibi,

and neverending promises – mistakes.

and finally we are finding power for withstand,

make a sneer at full cry, because we are same like all of you.

Martyr (Mučedník)

(text: Kolona; rap: Kolona, Smrad; beat: Tehanu)

I’m dying like a martyr in my warm sweet home,

I’m sure that my knife will hit the stone,

my role comes alive into a image and I’ll fall down on my knees,

and they will form arrays and hit the road just like a payoff.

And they will cover all the steps, push aside the still water by sharpened knifes

and with nerveless souls they turn they ears where the politically correct timber point at.

it’s a great training when you want to insinuate something, play on, or just sink through that.

they are not asking, they’re acting and relishing explosion of their ego.

in that moment, when I’m down on knees, their power is leading into the sky,

in that moment of notification that I have knife in my back, somebody is spraying a stencil with my face and date of death,

I’m a martyr, so listen and cover your eyes.

They change my name into the symbols, which I’ve played on, like all of you.

didn’t I died just because you now gonna pray for me once a year?

Maybe it will be better if you’ve got me out of my home,

and made something, that we’ve just talk about before.

but now I’m icon and you’re my confessors of traditions.

you’re remembering, not forgetting, but I don’t know, why I was fighting,

as by every memory fire is going down and your idea is like a maze.

…and I’m rambling there-forever.

Roundabout (Kolotoč)

(text&rap: Kolona, Smrad; beat: Budhi)

As you open your soul, you’ll get a slap,

in simulated world you have nine lives,

like a cat, which survive everything,

you’re walking down the edge and nothing will happens to you.

I feel that nothing will last forever,

as your lives are decreasing.

And as Icarus felt his downfall,

you gonna also hit the ground.

Sometimes I’m walking down the city,

and watching all the cobbles bear up against

strange compulsive running (city).

heels are slowly grinding these cobbles

and maligning their square corners and edges,

so how to avoid grinding of our heads?

And as Icarus felt his downfall,

you gonna also hit the ground.

Paranoya versus reality,

eternal war, sad fairytale.

There, where sun is shining, the wax is melting,

There, where the walls are ending, we have the ceiling.

I can’t be adult, digging my graveyard,

at the same time cover rest of my footsteps,

which ends, where I starts,

I’m waving by wings, escaping the nothingness.

I’m conceiving strokes, gadgets, escapes

from mob hods, out of fences, ID’s and current accounts,

and finally it comes out. Redemptive idea, lifebuoy,

light in the dark – simulated death.

Just have no fear and give up our comfort, background,

uproot our roots, sleep in underground,

sewer of strange cities, or in echoes of forest caves.

To find a shelter, cover oneself by shadow.

Which ends, where I starts,

I’m waving by wings, escaping the nothingness.

Let’s throw away your corset for twisting your spine,

which you’ve got at your 15 birthday as a present

and then you may finally breathe your freeing loneliness.

Always ready for dealing with dumbs,

then surprised by our rivals,

same struggle over and over again, same mistakes, same tactics.

My own shadow is gaining me on,

with image of whole history,

I have advantage, I’m one step closer,

I’m learning from the struggle, I’m scream from the silence.

I want to die peacefully. Leave me alone.

Hang on the funeral notice on the notice board at the square

and ash from my dog collar and clamp

just spill out in waiting room of employment office.

And after the headquarter forget me,

and also eye of camera don’t recognize me,

I’ll eat roundabout of social contract

and I’ll get wildness of your fantasy.

And you’ll not gonna cry for me, I’m free,

like a lampion on the night sky,

like a cork, I’m dancing on the surface,

and I’m not running they rules.

I’m aloft of choking steam of control

and deep under the foundations of control.

I’m indeterminate memory, I’m forgotten dream,

I’m not a passed day, no, I’m scream from the silence.

In the shadow (Ve Stínu)

(text&rap: Edosh, Kolona, Phoenicz, Smrad; beat: Edosh)

In the shadow of the universe, which runs through me,

in the shadow of light, narrowly under the bulb,

in the shadow of people, of myself,

I’m going around the world and searching for murderer.

In the shadow of universe, which runs through me,

in the shadow of light, narrowly under the bulb,

In the shadow of society, I’m alone,

murderer, murderer, murderer, murderer.

With every step my walking is growing,

so, I’m walking there like a hiker.

In the world of people, I’m alone,

weird, dark, shadow of myself.

I’m the thing, which is reflecting a Sun through me,

Rust of the universe, only one colorful heart,

this universe painted me by the color,

and I don’t have any paintbrush, so I have no choice.

Whole life I’m reflecting only the things I wants to,

I’m the shadow, which is guilty by lot of things,

people makes me different than I am,

like a bad dream, I’m running ahead of yellow light,

and everything is falling down from my arms,

people are picking it up and saying that I’m moron,

universe is behind me, I am between it,

and beyond me there’s neverending shadow on the ground.

My shadows have infinite appearance,

I’m splashing my utopias like a race,

I can hardly find my place on this planet,

while all the imaginary cubes were thrown.

I’m living from your doubts about helplessness,

while you’re drinking beer, I’m preparing vengeance.

While you’re waking up with hangover, my work is finally done with success.

You’re trying to escape by different options,

but my shadow is one step forward,

before you recognize me, I’ll be gone,

the things which will remains gonna change into the hatred.

Don’t try to polemize with me about my existence,

because I’ll be alive and in a frame, just because of you,

until you’ll wake up and switch off the light ,

which can finally asleep my desire.

In the shadow of myself, of bleeding sky,

yes Edosh, down on back with this things we don’t tolerate,

with the shadow on hands, in hands, also in our head,

we are not walking against death and fame.

Well, weirdness is kind of distinction,

like a resurrection of secret things.

Lame ideas versus promised doubts,

that if you’re going to catch the fish, there are shadows everywhere.

You know, it will not happens to you during the night,

it just moves inside somehow and never remains like that.

Yo, but during the day we can see more darkness,

which is totally different to the basics of freedom.

But the main thing is holding up with your legs on the ground,

so for that the wrong stance is spurred.

Permeated by absurdity of the universe behind the curtain,

cluttered up far away of zenith of the truth.

Bluffed by charms of the damn lie, while every one likely fall on knees

bend our spin and went out the fire flame, these sources of light,

which disclosed our roles of their shadow play.

And somewhere in the blackened shadow of bad sides of this universe,

is my silhoutte hidden,

covered by heavy consciousness of total absence of conscience,

somehow globally, if you understand me,

And I cannot choose, but I must scream over and over again,

that the way of moral illumination is going from below.

Consummation of Immaterial (Konzumace Nehmotného)

(text: Tma, rap: Tma, Smrad; beat: Phoenicz)

We live inside an illusion of reality, where immaterial becomes consumerist,

and so we consume feelings / while we call for the anarchy,

we consume relations and consume people, the old for new ones,

we forgot and change / we build and break almost at the same time.

In the illusion that we are better, we become to be evil,

we shake out the alien wedge by our wedges.

Only games, in which we play on our ego that we feed

by own smile, will take us out from feelings of nothingness.

By the consciousness of dauntlessness and bigness,

with clenched fist we don’t know how to be ashamed anymore,

we want to be more heard / we want to be more seen.

We, with our ability to hate more and more.

With ability to hate the system and defy its laws,

condemn the consume with a wave of the hand and coexist and abuse,

consume at the same time and claim, that we do it surely differently.

When we don’t consume substance, but knowledge,

we lost illusions, dreams and the conscience sadly also,

we consume immaterial, our fellow men and also strangers,

we consume relations, we consume people, we believe,

that some revolution will come even without us.

And so we wait, hidden in leaky boxes.

Our acts represent us by being silent / we are getting blind.

Our acts represent us by being silent / we are closing eyes.

In superficial desires we glorify our better Self,

we hope, that the other one hopefully won’t recognize it,

that we consume his time and his body, his heart and his ego.

We consume relations, we consume feelings,

we consume emotions and we consume people,

we say, that to do not consume things surely goes towards the revolution.

We often resist and shout, that it is normal

to throw out inhibitions and just don’t be normal.

We forget about the goal, about ways, which goes towards it.

We lost ourselves / we fight against each other.

Sometimes we forget ourselves, it is not the blame of anyone.

The society destroy us as a cancer. I still believe,

that we shall find the right way, by which we will go away on those side,

where they won’t get us, where without any protests and remorse,

surrounded with creativity, we will build better world,

now really without consumerism, with reason / definitively without consumerism.

Because by the present in the name of beasts we consume

immaterial / also this kind of consumerism kills.

We consume relations, we consume feelings,

we consume emotions and we consume people,

we consume dreams in dreamless utopias.

What the one should think about the others,

if they left him immediately, once he showed the weakness for the first time.

So we rather don’t show the weakness, we don’t express what we think,

we don’t make our bodies to the bones / I suppress both the rage and joy.

Because trends are also advocated inside the scene,

critical thought is being replaced by happy ends,

classical consumerism is being replaced by consumerism in another color,

we believe to feelings of nothingness instead of karma.

I don’t want to live like this, I tread the conscience of the scene,

which in the name of the struggle changes the smile into the caricature.

Inside the illusion of reality, where immaterial becomes consumerist

and to consume becomes reasonable.

Reklamy