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Leæther Strip
Leæther Strip




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Альбом Leæther Strip


Material (1991)
1991
1.
Steal!
2.
The Nature Of God
3.
4.
Die-Die-Die (Completely Dead Version)
5.
Body-Machine-Body (Live)
6.
7.
. . .

Steal!

[Нет текста]

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The Nature Of God

[Нет текста]

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The leather-clad girl walks through the blue light
Sees the black light then fade away
Painful emotions of different conclusions
Are breaking through the walls of emptiness

The men on the walls stop the fire from burning
Throwing the water on painted spots
Tempted illusions stop, blasphemous notions stop
Tearing down the pieces from nothing at all

No way, I'm not going through the black door
Kissing their feet for a luxurious life
Tempting me with drugs that keeps me down
No wonder the system is breaking down

I know my way out of here from this stinking place
If you wanna get out, you have to look at my face
Just scream your lungs out, scream it out loud
We're never gonna follow your stupid beat

We walk through strangers

No way I'm not changing my lifestyle
Suppressing my feelings for those who rule
They can lock me up, but never break me down
The resolution comes first, break down the crown

. . .

Die-Die-Die

[Нет текста]

. . .

Body-Machine-Body

[Нет текста]

. . .


Japanese Bodies

Screaming souls and shades of doom
Bodies shine and blame for bloom
Everyone seems out of place
The public only stops to gaze

We're only Japanese
Japanese Bodies

Sell your soul to your master
The body heat will flow faster
Everything will start to shrink
The brain will crumble just to think

The persuasion ability seems to be the only way men of power can get even more powerful
More powerful

Thoughts of the last warrior
There can only be one carrier
Drinking water with deadly poison
Men accused for high treason

We're only Japanese
Japanese Bodies

. . .



Razor unthread is leading disguise
Containabled by the toxic gas
You price on the earth below
Bodies in courtness, sarcastic flow

Never, never belief their lies
Just control your self command
Ever, never catch their eyes
When they talk about the promised land

Razors go berserk
Rusting in the dirt

The dying art will never blend
Your where adduce faces of working men
The car cast lies in a rotten hearth
You can smell the dead meat when the razors cut

You never find your way out here
You never find your way out here


. . .


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