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Napalm Death




Альбом Napalm Death



1994
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. . .


Gut level, below it all.
Out of duty - just here.

Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it is.

False hope, an inch of pride that died when I left to hide from non stop
battering of conditioned opinion.

Rest assured but not assured, all is well, but I think we've dealt
with the fear for far too long.

Unborn suffer the norm.
Born to this - I thin not!
I stand against till the shit drops.

We see all but do nothing, in the hole of "How it is".

. . .


Downwards, downwards-
Life's spiraling descent.
All love is lost.
Premature and unreasoning.
Perversely chained without any values.
Wretched, degraded.
Take it all on the chin.
To forever hold my piece.....
The reins turned noose pull taunt as I fall.
The figment is more painful than the fact,
And I'm the one to hang, just for being me!
The murky clouds wash, solace comforts me not,
And I'm the one to hang, just for being me!
Black numbing blanket smothers attrition once and for all

. . .


No place.
My number's up.
Still not good enough.

Sequested, should I bow my head?
Unlucky?
Not to be a part .

Accept the ordeal, bar-coded.
Cut the deals, downloaded.
Succession strains.

Misinformed.
Denied, your words shattered.
Purposeless.

I'll breath the free air, and remain nameless.

. . .


Scale the inferno, take it all in
Am I right or wrong, or just confused?
Glamorized, dare I say it?
Fantasized, but through who's eyes?
Not theirs, that's for sure!
Rebuff beliefs that we've lost.
A plague rages in all our hearts.
Am I the last in line?
To stop and turn, and pretend that we're really changing.
I'd sooner DIE!...........

. . .


The clever box'o'tricks
Tells me I'm paranoid.
But as I uncover,
The sourbess and decay
Echoes my suspicions-
Civilized nations? - A contradictiry farce.
The species supreme speaks with acid tongue.
(There's) more than meets the eye.
Thought process is geared
To caution to te wind.
We shuffle along discriminately,
The danger signs ignored.
Man goads woman.
Child strikes infant.
Turned against each other.
..of those who think it righteous
To liberate the wiser,
Or those who punch hardest
For the land of competition.
(There's) more than meets the eye.
Head swims, heart cries
Because hopelessness resides,
When man last falls.
Who'll be left to fight?
(There's) more than meets the eye

. . .


I've walked to the ends of the earth, and glanced into the eyes of
those who were going the opposite way.
They failed to bridge the gap, first contact was a threat and you
could taste the surging unrest.

Who wrote the law that opposites attract?
Who could be so naive?
Everyone trusts no-one.

Looking out for number one.
Ours is a primed time.

The finite thrill of the loathing - a streak in our life bearing
dreams.
It strengthens to soothe the open wound, but ours is a primed time.

It strengthens to soothe the open wound, but ours is a primed time.

Bonding? - Do you think I want the upper hand?
Broken contracts, we sow infertile seeds and reparation pales.

. . .


To transgress out, out of a savage state of mind.

A deep rooted, continuous outcry.

Territory under rule.
But from whom?
Do we choose the right to not choose to be fools?

To grasp greedily, a freedom from pride.
A binding force, a source of strength.

Territory under rule.
But from whom?
Do we choose the right to not choose to be fools?

To be content to lose, an act of saving, of deliverance for a while.
For the knowing smile of "I told you so"

Fear and it's penalties, to utter such cries.

I think the choice is there to underule

. . .


Lest we forget scorched earth policies, of megaton and hydrogen, and
taut muscle of an armory that flexes, to show the world we mean
business!

It's all smiles and handshakes, but who moves to disarm.

We've cheapened time and evolution.
To be violently erased is non - fiction.
Those summits and peace treaties are just worthless words.

It's all smiles and handshakes, but who moves to disarm.

Radium, Uranium - one more isotope to add the collection.
The age of outrage has been reasoned into submission.
And cries for peace are no longer in fashion.
I wonder if we'll see the point through cataracted eyes.
Or draw breath from irradiated lungs, and sigh as we exit times
seven

. . .


I'm retching on the dirt, it's earthiness coating my throat.
I'm wincing on the bitterest pill.
I refuse to swallow.
I'm offered the warmth of a velvet glove, an iron fist to some.

I'm hounded by white - right might that wants the country pure.
I'm incensed by those in awe of "living amongst their own".

Selective perfection will cut their own throats!

I'm constantly forcing the point, but we're all retching on dirt,
and we'll choke if we don't spit it out!

. . .


So long we shared friendship, I thought (but misguided)

Finally you came then, what I knew you were, all along.

Spineless, you pretend to be what you're not to me, and all around
me.

Two faced and so self - centered.

It works both ways, but you can't feel you obsessions blinding you.

You abuse, and for what do we get in return?

My last chance to repent.
It's your last chance.
We'll fast on you deception.

After all, you've proved yourself.
So many things maliciously absurd.

I cannot trust you and I never will.
Still a disillusioned friend.

. . .


I've slipped the noose, the shackles are off.
My maturity fixation outshines.

It's go for broke and fuck it all, with head held higher (than thou)

I am the man that used to care.
Who was I then?

So quizzical with foresight.
Now I've favored to savor the flavor of nine - to - five intuition.

Out with the old, in with the new regime.
I sold my soul to the rebotised dream.

I'm just an empty shell with integrity scooped out.
A painted smile, a glass - eye high on two that can't cry.

Touch me, I'm cold to the merits of (real) love.
I stepped back from the edge when other slipped off.

And all because society told me to.

. . .


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