0:003:33
(c) Aliaksandr Kavaliou
Reckoning
Technical waste of progressive space
sleeping in the cage of inlaid brain.
Masses of society, unconscious, dripping biases
are calming down on (the) road to hell.
With some restricted violence, in duty bound environment,
beholding the whole wretchedness of own self made possessiveness,
the reckless, diligent somnambulists, their hole of inner peace
are growing down the road of hell.
Take this coin... for the next reckoning.
Fly my flies, tear them up and down!
Let them all believe they are on the ground!
Scullers of my realm, bring me to the crowd!
Followers of Skulls, let us take the empty skies!
Sleep well my bride, my canting, laughing freight,
let us bring you to the blind-deaf military pride.
I offer them your services, for those who never will reverse
this road to hell.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio,
filling the gut with the blood of your god,
hiding the scars of pain.
Take this coin... for the next reckoning.
Fly my flies, tear them up and down!
Let them all believe they are on the ground!
Scullers of my realm, bring me to the crowd!
Followers of Skulls, let us take the empty skies!
Technical waste of progressive space
sleeping in the cage of inlaid brain.
Masses of society, unconscious, dripping biases
are calming down on (the) road to hell.
With some restricted violence, in duty bound environment,
beholding the whole wretchedness of own self made possessiveness,
the reckless, diligent somnambulists, their hole of inner peace
are growing down the road of hell.
Take this coin... for the next reckoning.
Fly my flies, tear them up and down!
Let them all believe they are on the ground!
Scullers of my realm, bring me to the crowd!
Followers of Skulls, let us take the empty skies!
Sleep well my bride, my canting, laughing freight,
let us bring you to the blind-deaf military pride.
I offer them your services, for those who never will reverse
this road to hell.
Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio,
filling the gut with the blood of your god,
hiding the scars of pain.
Take this coin... for the next reckoning.
Fly my flies, tear them up and down!
Let them all believe they are on the ground!
Scullers of my realm, bring me to the crowd!
Followers of Skulls, let us take the empty skies!
