кто андерстендит англ, зацените. написал я это давненько, месяца 4 назад. вот случайно нашел:
this life was never made for joy and happiness/
i was a living dead and i could not care less
i used to walk around in the world of emptiness/
i should have been a very scray thing indeed i guess
day after day, night after night/
it was becoming hard/ to keep my mind upright
i saw a lot of wierd stuff/ in the fading light
i never saw a thing/ when light was shining bright.
had a lot of sex, but love with little luck
the only question that i ever asked was: what the fuck?
and then one misty morning/ u finally wake up,
look at your life and realise that you're fucking stuck.
from me to me - in my scripts that's the range
why don't i talk about somebody else for a change?
someone who does not live just in my rhymes on the stage
who has a real soul and has a real face.
nice little cute girl with blond hair and green eyes
green eyes, blond hair and slim hands, cold as ice
she randomly smiles and she seldomly cries
in her deepness of eyes is the reflection of skies,
joy, dearty, pride; pain sorrow and lies!
yo, thats enough for the intro, i think u get the idea
[shaky voice:]
hey! it's val with a mic again - oh dear, oh dear!
and latelly one thing has become pretty clear:
when this planet explodes i don't want to be here...
здесь вставка, которую я пропускаю.
yeah-yeah - we all thought it was the beginning of new era/
we never expected those old mistakes - here me?!!! - never!
however, whore history turned out pretty clever -
i've seen people suffering and nobody cared.
it's not as if suffering alone was that rare,
but one might start wandering if this doom is forever?
blocks of flats one on one, like a hive full of wasps,
concrete cities and streets, full of violense and dust,
people want to survive, and a gun is a must,
a lot of people to hate, few of those you can trust.
and when winter comes - minus twenty below,
icy wind, icy desert and new year with no snow
sins of christ have transformed into mud on the roads,
slave-like consciousness behind a pair of bullet-proof doors.
the only subject of worship is a mistress named death,
red blood on white snow - thats as good as it gets,
in a cage with no exit a mind coated with rage -
the philosophical crisis of post-socialist age.
cannabis, exctasy, acid, cocaine,
swallowed, inhaled, injected into a vein,
an infected needle, guided and aimed,
this motherfucking plauge goes straight for the brain,
and in a couple of minutes u forget your own name,
it all seems fucked up - like in a childish game,
u sleep during daytime and sunbathe in the rain,
made up of your tears, and one can't explain,
why such beauty chose a path of pointless pain?
her life was transformed to drug-dimensional plane,
and excistance is pointless, excistance is plain.
hey, i'm asking a question - whats the worst drug in the world?
the one that can be bought once you're 11 years old,
in every pharmasist shop a pain killer is sold
"just don't overdose it!" - a child is told.
so what about that chick, of whom i was so proud?
she's in a fucked up basement, underneath the ground,
she does those painkillers, and laughs out loud,
then suddenly goes quiet, without giving a sound
yo, do i still love her? i can say NO with no doubt
love itself is the worst drug that can ever be found.
мнения?
п.с. рушна - ты еше жива? тебе должно понравиться :1
