КонтрКультура - мы всё ближе к корням
текст песни

The separate world is not a way out, but there is no strength for battle
Inevitability in the form of death hangs like a shahid belt
or a carousel of toys above the bed, fascinating and frightening
Fatum cannot be avoided in any way
The body covered with vapor moves in search of the path
exit to the sea from emotions and memory assorted
But the fate of the champion is handicap and history
The air is impregnated with oil as an eternity and serena ambulance
do not have time to come to a crippled body
Earth will not be fluff, but a languor citadel
“Remember Death, but don't forget about life” - that’s what he muttered
Brothers, we are getting closer to the roots!
So they built empires and collected sects
The idea moves matter when there is something to believe in
the hand is invisible, and the ghost is still somewhere there
Crushing Bratan, troops on the way, we are getting closer to the roots!
This is a dry residue, a plot, a honeycomb made of metaphors
Invisible soldier that dies at the standard
Countless times for disobedience
An iron phoenix will come from a metal ash
The eternal enemy will prevail, blind the vigilant oracle
The legend will become a myth, the epic will turn into a fairy tale
you need to go to something higher in order to realize it
Crushing Bratan, troops on the way, we are getting closer to the roots!
Our remains are the food of the vultures, the planet is a landfill,
Man - abstraction trembling in seizures
Illusions are now much more represented by reality
We are all soldiers in the war where you can only lose
Each word eidos and in fact it costs nothing
Dialogue-Mayevtika, or category system
no better than the method of bourgeois kitchen tanks
Goodbye, radical, rhizom turned into stone

This is how empires were built and collected sects
The idea moves matter when there is something to believe in
the hand is invisible, and the ghost is still somewhere there
Brotherhood, troops on the way, we are getting closer to the roots

This is how empires were built and collected sects
The idea moves matter when there is something to believe in
the hand is invisible, and the ghost is still somewhere there
Brotherhood, troops on the way, we are getting closer to the roots
This fact will leave indifferent this product of the mass-pult
Explosions of amplitudes of fermentation of the minds will not bring
desired to those who are not able to drip deeper
The stalk will remain in the hands of the madman from the shovel.

twenty -three years of pain in the body, what else is waiting
the one who was too early understood that he was doomed
Do not live, but survive, do not rejoice, but ages
Leave Tolik the ideas here, not the performances-lacci
and earn, drag a damn stone to the mountain
ensure the fiction of freedom from suffering
hiding at night with a blanket of dreams and fantasies
Stop time - your reward, memory

About how I wandered among people and permanent stress
anxiety about the authenticity of faith and the effect of actions
In the illusion of being encountering with renewed vigor
Everyday works and days vs. Projectivity
This is a flight from answers, which means responsibility
non-nullifying causal effects
We only believe that serenity will grant us
And we stigmatize the problem of death

So they built empires and collected sects
The idea moves matter when there is something to believe in
the hand is invisible, and the ghost is still somewhere there
Brotherhood, troops on the way, we are getting closer to the roots
you will be remembered by a retinue dressed in outfits
After all, life is a theater, a symbolic order
And someone always someone remains to promise death
Eternal memory from people are unnecessary in their roots