Its

Ты думаешь: это привязанность?
А ты уверена точно в этом?
Ты не права, ты не следишь за светом,
От него исходит мягкий свет.

Может быть, тебе его просто не видно,
Я имею в виду свет, а не Стаса…
Мне, конечно, не очень обидно,
Но ты не впадаешь в чувство экстаза.

Видя его, я ловлю такой кайф!
Я люблю его, может, поверишь?
Ну, а если всё-таки ты не веришь,
То пойми только это: «It's my life!»

Close to madness
So demanding, I cant breathe anymore
Ill never be the same again
Please forgive me, and forget me
Cause its calling my name
Ill never go back again, back again, back again, back again

Can I find some more misery?
If it cant be you, then it must be me, and
Can i find some more for me?
Ill never know, Ill never go back again, back again, back again, back again

Cold September, I remember
Wishing I was away
Ill never be the same again
Please forgive me and forget...

Vorkuta distant darling,
How are you there all the days long,
We native have not left you,
Its fires shine to us in the distance,
We native have not left you,
Its fires shine to us in the distance.

We have left heart in the north,
On Ural tender mountains,
Tundra, where a beauty autumn,
Slopes, where Ural in snows …
Tundra, where a beauty autumn,
Slopes, where Ural in snows …

Vorkuta distant darling,
How are you there all the days long,
We native have not left you...

Для редактора,
озабоченного передовицей,
он никто, какой-то Джон Мильтон,
затерявшийся на литературной обочине.

Актриса глицериновую слезу
из-за него не проливала ни разу.

О нем хранит молчание
радио и телевещание.

Нет ни досье, ни файлов секретных.
Нет псевдонимов народу известных.

Никому не интересно
узнать его настоящее имя.

Жив ли он, мертв ли он,
не проверяет никто.

Возможно в чулане
детективы найдут его труп
с разбитым лицом,
с открытыми глазами...

I Got So Much Trouble on My Mind
Paranoia Time
I'm Running out of Life
Clockwise and the Seconds Tick Way
Each Line That Cuts My Face
Cut as Each Hand Moves into Place
Paranoiaamped and Wired
Bile Black the Thoughts That Run My Head
There's So Much to Be Said
They're So Much Living Dead
Walking Corpses Shambling Through Life
With Nothing in Their Sight
Dance on Their Bones, Step in and Fight
Paranoia
Amped and Wired
Life and Death Are Fighting for My Time
I Can't Seem to Find the...

Экстази взрыв,
Один за одним,
Оргазм раненье тел внутри. Неудовл лечи!

Well ive been sitting thinking of your smile and all of your perfect solutions and getting drunk with the boys just don't cut, fills you full of illusions.

"Создай восторг, нескучай" - тебя я очень жду: "твоих губ волне внутри во мне растворите"... радость на лице светнесс (-ness [nes] или [nis]) с друзьями выпить но не спать... "иллюзив вне себя ощутите".

I'm always tired and sometimes stale, its like a job at...

There Is the Moon,
That's reflexing on February snow,
That is singing up high all alone,
I will come to You soon

There is the Moon,
That is shining on somebody's face,
That is watching humanity race,
Just reversing a noon

There is the night,
That is calling for Brightening Light,
That is waiting for heat of the Sun,
For God whims have been done

There is the Time,
That in Universe doesn't exist,
But on Earth it is hidden in mist,
Deep inside in the mind

There is the sky...

Energy... the universal power,
making any thing and matter one.
It creates eternal tower
of everything that was and should be done.

Existence... the calibration source,
giving all its name and special task.
Where energy is a special force
that's up to place ideas on the desk.

Divinity... the existential ocean,
where every essence plays its role on stage.
Where energy is spinning in a motion...
and it is so at any time in any age.

The sunset blazes ‘pon the vault,
This afternoon dies slowly forever,
The world is overfilled with weariness and fatigue,
Another episode of this life’s masquerade
Comes to an end…
The curtain falls…
And beauteous Agnes Adoma,
The prima donna of the opera house,
A-shining in the luster of her fame,
Leaves her beloved stage to the ovation
Of the spectators.
Her eyes! Her gorgeous green eyes!
They shine, like emeralds in the midday fire of heaven!
Her skin is white, like a snow of the...

The armour glinted harshly dull
In beams of setting sun,
Its polished parts sat smartly on
To shield the solid One.

He stood there rock,
A metal spur
On stones of mighty wall,
Beyond of that came ever high
The flags of City Hall.

His squinted eyes were watching far,
His hand was grasping bow,
Cast arrows ramped for piercing flight
And sword –
For clashing blow.

Those craven foes…
They dared not to come to Warrier’s sight.
They shrank in holes
And damned cursed
With voices...