Donnerstag, 10. Januar 2008

Die Frage zur "Nacht" - Part weißichnichtmehr...

Geschrieben von sjAlfur unter Die Frage zur Nacht

------ .kinetic...

[verse 1]
turn around to where the geisha sings
dancing with your tanks in spring
grab the mud and face the clay
machines and maps (misshapen fray)

spin the globe and tread the mill
c'mon boy there's still rust to spill
eat the fallout and drink the spray
(the handcars are on their way)

[verse 2]
alpha cygni sent us riddles and swans
lost rooms and golden balls in dawns
hail the empire! my soviet heart
beats (in everyone of us)

nutters bargain for alliances
mentors shout: 'we don't need science!'
believe the faith on society's edge
where Jule and Jesus (changed their pledges)

[verse 3]
ukraine taxes tenacity rye
grown to the clouds of megalomaniac lies
raising the concrete around stolen desasters
and selling the weed (to one another)

- and don't you come back, boy
- we shook one another's hand
- and sold kisses to belarus' prostitutes
- don't you come back, girl
- i gave you a gun
- to please yourself
- all way through your galactical scars

[somewhere in the middle]
gray as your shelters
my colors of memories
vectorial foetus
and wolf-teethed cars
cut from their parachutes
focal flux in melodies
forestall the catchlines
of dinosaur stars

drink from the rivers
spawned in the wilderness
it once was a city
of ducks and gooses
roasted by swans
temptation from outter space
strugatzky bros
the zone spits us out

[somewhere in the inner core]
where has the light gone to?
where have the birdies flew?
where has deneb lost his innocence?
where is the tank's garage
built of the metal flesh
of a land
we knew
so far...

[somewhere on the stairs up]
the key to this room is boxed by pandora
the key is the mutilated sense of scientific wannabes
the key to this room is boxed by swan empire
the key is the film noir of mental disruptional actors

[and down again]
who broke the glasses? - (led the first strike)
who broke the glasses? - (grown totally ripe)
who broke the caravan? - (all the merchants...)
...paid the mercenaries for forming a new civilizated tribe

- and don't you come back, boy
- we shook one another's hand
- and sold kisses to belarus' prostitutes
- don't you come back, girl
- i gave you a gun
- to please yourself
- all way through your galactical scars


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