|
|
|
 |
 |
|
| Музыкальных проектов |
3605 |
|
| Музыкантов |
10435 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The unknown angels | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Ancient best beauty is among meagre trees
and neverending gravestones.Only here entrancing
glint of sad moon is shouting.Silence grows for
endless sorrow of beings that say goodbye to strange life.
In this mysterious place there is birth, one can walk
alone with pain in heart, all cheers are deeply in the ground.
The cemetary lives catching silent cry eating distress
and despair. Beatiful black shroud catches your sight.
You came to this world alone when all disallowed.
Lacerate yourself with recollections untill they come
to help you.Listen to silence, night air scents your sorrow,
they feel it, they are here already, nearby you.
They looked after you from the moment you cried nearby
gravestone. They take your hands and walk among other
tombs telling the story for everyone. They are so beatiful
but you can"t see them, they"re so kind but they eat your
sorrow. Be freehearted with them and they will not
deceive you, they love you when you suffer, they"ll show
the way. At home you"ll fear, you"ll pick your sheets,
you"ll not be able to sleep, you should go there!
They pity your soul there, charming the voyage for loss.
They"ll show you him. No, you are not going mad,
they are real. Ordinary man coming on a place of mourning
doesn"t see them. They"ll appear near the sorrow when
the loss cuts like a knife into the heart when loss strangles
and makes desolate. They"ll free your soul impressing
hopeless. But you"ll not fear it they"re so kind and gentle.
They smell sweet, speak prettily invoking "leave,leave"
forever. Come back here till you understand how
they"re right and it"s no reason to live. They"ll be with
you when you deicide, they want you for kindness.
There is one more grave here.
|
|
Christophore | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Duck in the death kingdom of religious fanaticism,
concealed old-believers in the undergrounds and in
desolated woods. Concealed the corpses of children whose
parents were blessed with fire of self-immolation.
The monks and nuns fast till swoons and pray till death,
but it is of their own accord? Now they "dead for world".
Old-believers bury each other, grievously bearing empty
coffins to country graveyards. For corporal "crapple"
graveyard - empty coffin, the dead old-believer - to
cryptic pits near small and secluded monastery.
"Sacrament of self violence" passed under following order.
Women showed out from dugouts. They were enrobed
with long rude shirts. Their faces were grey and exanimate
like canvas from their shirts. Before adaptation of martyr
coronet ten-day starvation was stand on their feet heavily.
The nuns supported them carefully. Christophore marched
ahead procession proudly. Victims were leaded to swampy
pits and detruted to dirty, rotten liquid. If they haven"t
drowned promptly Christophore"s assistant sink their heads
into the water or ludgel. Death bears fanatic and perverted
character. Many of them opposed forcibly, tried to get out,
now a few were 20-25 years, chidren were also there…
The grandfather takes in small and secluded monastery his
own grandchild who was 8 years old. Christophore sank him
in an ice-hole saying after "Look, the boy accomplished a feat
to get empyreal coronets". The bodies of "accepted coronets"
were sewed in mats and buried without any crosses. In winter
when swamps and rivers had frozen, girls were burnt alive in
bath-houses or poisoned. "Ready for the ordeal are
Renouncement from laic affair and consecrate themselves for
the prayers and fast. Just think if advent reached when you
fell from grace?! It is better to die you yourself and not to
gamble by great bliss for heaven! Put to death yourself and
you will be saved, and if love your children - kill them also
because they can become Antichrist"s Admirers!", the bastard
said.Christophore was the provider of the most peculiar
traditions of old-believers - self-voilence!
|
|
Crystal life | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Far from idiotic reality where everyone is cold and dark
a man looks for home, who cries every night.
He searches in his recollections the moments what for
he lives. He cannot find them! Far rom idiotic reality,
place which you"re afraid, the man stays there.
Escape from the abyss. He leaves alone to start his life.
You ignore lie and hypocrisy, what for? Soon you"ll trust
them while selling yourselves. You"ll not be able to see
cause you"re coward. He has seen it! And the man is
going away. He"s losing connection with the past.
It"s painful to lose simplicity of life, it"s hard to be
alone when soul bleeds. Painful to be disappointed.
Have you been plunged in your soul so long to
discover emptiness. What do you live for? You"re as
other, stupid machine! The man searching comprehension
knocks against wall of dullness. When he tries to break
it he become humiliated and banished. The people, they
are afraid to get rid of chains created by time and spiritual
regress. Don"t you knowthat you are among them?
His mind is free of religion but will he be able to go on?
Feelings which flourish in one wither in other, these
feelings for the first time make him strong.
He refused of all what surrounded him all these years
of empty life. When he leaves the world of blind he
hopes… but he suffers from his solitude.
|
|
Waiting for a cold morning | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
So hard to see into the eyes of own mother! Why does she
let me to be in hell? Now I have no friends and I don"t
want to live. Somewhere behind my naive dreams has left.
Somewhere behind my life has left. I conceal my eyes
which are dropsical cause of tears. I"m scared when I
watch these people, explain what they do with me.
What for is this cross on my neck? Christ! I pray every
morning to do it last. Watch me, when I"m in this dark
room! I don"t want to come back in foul dirty bed!
O God! It"s so hard! I feel bad when I see own blood.
Mama, mama, take me away from here! I can"t sleep,
I"m afraid constantly, my face is a bruise. I feel pain when
they penetrate… The mother bawls permanently, she takes
me to alien people, and I dance, dance listening to their
plastered laughter, naked and humiliated.I hate you,
woman, who gives my birth. Several months already my
life had flowed among dirt and platitude. I"m a body
satisfying lustful bastards! Kill me by your shameless
desire! I"m daughter who waits for the morning to
freese on the floor beneath the blanket and to dream
about non-coming of the mother. I wait for the cold
morning to go away from this room, to lie in cold corner,
to crywaiting for death. Now I"m cureless. My heart is
broken and my soul screams every night praying for saving.
There"s no mercy, childish consciousness is broken.
Through the ignorance and violence I watch the daylight.
Thank you, the sun for your warm rays but I don"t have
childish romance. Nothing dismays me any more. Just
look after grey mist of time going slowly…
Their shadows everywhere, they rape me even in my dream
and time has stopped. You can"t understand how
it"s hard and painful. Life which suffers me is so
beatiful for others.
|
|
Severe reality of alien dreams | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Already several weeks you are hagridden with fearful insomnia. Your organism became weak, you are nervous and
spitfire. You feel how psychical condition is norsening
day by day. Who creates this obsession? Why didn"t
medicines help you to fall asleep? You are a victim of
abnormal phenomena, psychological experience but is the
cause of it all. What is the nature of the psychosis?
There"s brutal night again, already wonted torments again.
But what happened to you, there"s real in the head.
Bright flashes before your eyes. The brain is getting free
from any minds. You fall to sleep! But where are you?
Ha-ha-ha! The minds vanished to dark abyss where it
smells with perspiration decaying corpses and gunpowder.
Plaintive cries of unknown people, red from blood icy floor
full of disfigured bodies. Thousands of empty and ill views.
You go on the labirinth on dirty ways of alien dream.
Trying to find the exit from this disgusting world.
Lustful women touch you and try to kiss you by their lips
smeared with sperm. Glacial cry infetters your soul with fear.
Cutting heads are on the spiles, endless mockeries against
children.
Unsupportable tortures, hellish laughter - you feel bad.
Do you feel the gravestone above your head? You are running with fear in the heart. You want to hide from this inferno.
But nowhere to escape, it"s everywhere. Treading on puddles
filled in blood and tears you fall into the heap of impuruties.
Nefarious vulgarity of dirty inebriate men enfetters your veins.
Terrible reek and waste, sexual perversions, awful spectacles
bereave you to breathe. Brutality of this horrorful world
shears like knife into the heart. You cry watching on the tortures against guiltless children. But what are you able to do? It"s just a dream. The dream which have killed you! You
are in the dream of nefariuos killer who has ill imagination.
Psychical wave of abhorrence connected with the action
have deformed your brain. Your psyche has broken. Emotions
from the insomnia accumulated you during several weeks
have killed you!
|
|
Mors animae | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Inmost mother"s love to son is broken by money hunger.
Who is this woman? Despaired with beggary fugitive one
or soulless bitch. She have never answered for this question.
Day by day she poisoned her five-year son slowly to make
him invalid and to get sick-benefit. The child fell to coma
several times but was saved. What is the childhood in
reahimation? But in the hospital the mother visited him too
and after every such get-together he felt more bad and bad.
He was practically dead. Medicine man forbided mother to
visit the son when they found overdose of phenobarbitol in
blood of child. This woman has also 3 children, what"s their
fate? The boy has frequent psychosyses. The mother made
her son invalid but she hadn"t got money! She was at
the "dock". But it"s a "dead article". Was she jugged?
It"s not a history of sadist one, not a tragedy of one child,
it"s life. What"s the source of knowledges which unlettered
woman had in pharmaceutics? Diagnostics neurology?
What"s the profession to "knock out" money by pity?
Who are the people created it? Fuck them! Kill them!
Not only mother is guilty! Are children born to make
money by meanings of them? It"s problem not only
of fugitives,sick and dog poors. It"s a problem of everyone.
What"s the country where children sit on terminuses and
be forever asking for money? Who"re these bastards -
people closing their eyes seing that? What are the fuckihg
people abasing children?
|
|
Make me cry | Год:
2000 | Автор(ы):
A.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Every night you try to run away from obsessive image.
Every night he caresses you and drinks your blood.
It"s killing you and you want to hurt me. Recollections
back me into your mind and break your dreams. But I
beg you to free me from this chase for the past!
All I need - just to part from. All I need - to forget you.
But how it"s deceptive! It"s very hard when you have
lack of comprehension. My heart is enchained with
you, I"m forceless… all my dances with you go with
pain. The pain you haven"t expected. You think I"m the
cause of the torment. But I"m so far from you and my
minds so nearby. Oh, free me from these visions which
we dance in. You don"t care where you turn away from
me. But something ghostly lacerates your heart.
Forgive me! But I can"t forget these images of love
which are so sad, sadness feeds me. I"m going blind,
I"m afraid to see reality. Fear, solitude, quiet cry, what
is still expecting me? Kill me! I"m not free. Embraced with
dark silence she feels sweet but cold touch. The taste
of bitterness is on her lips. The pulse of my heart
emanates from her bosom. It"s depressing her and
satisfying. Why does not she say a word? Ducking in
empty reflection again. She corners me with cold blood
in her head. Play my feelings. Lark with my sorrow,
this is her way to part from reality. Something dismays her
virginal tranquillity, something tender and mournful, it"s
filling her. Sinking her soul in sweet dreams. But it hurts
her. She cries going in the streets. Does she like my
condition? But what are you going to do now? She drowns
in the ocean of disappointment all is pale and alien. But it
will end soon cause it"s not me any more.
|
|
Gradual necrosis | Год:
1999 | Автор(ы):
Е.Линник | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Medicine man is cutting corpses.
Rotting senses are beneath the knives.
Fasten seat belts to prepare for the rot.
Someone digs your stomache
Through the fog hear
the voices of your gods.
Know they used to damage.
Hurry it is beginning of the pain.
It is filling your like gain.
Feel how hands are dying out.
For the youth you"ve lost.
Chorus:
You"ve lost all sensors
From gradual necrosis.
|
|
Отречение | Год:
1999 | Автор(ы):
А.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Я отрекся от неба, кровь есть мое начало,
накорми мне вену, высоси из меня отраву.
Я обхожу стороной парализованный мир.
Толпы заплеванных душ входят в
бесконечный круг. Люди губят свой разум
им незачем жить. Я не боюсь тебя, в страхе
перед природой созданный бог. Я разорвал
паутины мерзкой веры, мой разум свободен
от церковных догм. Прочь от лживых богов!
Избавь свое сознание от ядовитого тумана,
насильно накачиваемого в твою кровь
апостолами лицемерия, жестокими тиранами.
Религиозная фальшь извращает реальные
отношения в природе, грабит и калечит души
людей. Религиозная отрава поглощает мозг.
Холодное сердце с огромной раной,
приковано слепой верой к кресту.
Фанатичные убийства "неверных".
Парализация умственного течения
жизни. Стремления к господству над массами.
Кровавые, жестокие культы во устрашение.
Вот истинное лицо религии! Насильственное
принуждение верить в праведных? жестоких
богов!!! Устрашение призывами лицезреть,
как платят за несовершенные грехи.
Закуй свою свободу цепями, читая
философию абсурдных книг. Я же свободен
от отвратительных идеологий, сковывающих
свободомыслие.
|
|
Transplantation of rotten organs | Год:
1999 | Автор(ы):
Е.Линник/А.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Surgeon smiles body is brought
All is ready to begin the act
What the hell, scalpels are blunt
Well, begin this experience
How do you think he will live?
We see but it is so amusing
Give me this rotten lungs
And these bleeding intestines
Why does he become blue?
Doctor, doctor as for me he is dead
Shit, I"ve got dirty my new coat
Throw away him I think he is dead.
Operation finished well: patient dies.
There is blood on floor and wall
I"m still listening his screams
It is a need to avoid from
disfigured body. I will burn him.
|
|
Театр распятий | Год:
1999 | Автор(ы):
А.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 30.07.2003
Бесконечные иллюзии разрывают мозг.
Видения черной абстрактности хватают
за горло. Мираж царственного
существования не выпускает разум.
Медленно падая в бездонную пропасть,
они кричат своим богам. Они прошли
через утрату умственных способностей
и омовение собственной крови. Они
нуждаются в безумной боли, чтобы
впадать в экстаз. Жертвы кровавой
игры религиозного фанатизма, жестоких
и алчных личностей. Учат свои роли,
примеряя маски глупцов и самоубийц.
За черным занавесом их ждет палач, но
нет сожаления, загипнотизированные и
подверженные аскетизму. Они достигли
пика совершенства, служа пешками у
жестоких правителей. Духовный закон
для трагедий потерянных сознаний
приковывает к кресту безумных актеров.
Создание склепа для похорон самоубийц
вызывает восторг у живых. Молитвы в
никуда и благословение собственной смерти.
Инстинкт вечности внушается одинаковыми
снами. Их мысли одинаковы в длительной
агонии. Семя жестокого представления с
жертвоприношениями вливается во чрево
обезумевших матерей. Безликие, они
разыгрывают спектакли перед своими детьми,
лишая их свободы. Второе рождение
духовности в мучениях и смерти.
|
|
Патологическая эметофилия | Год:
1999 | Автор(ы):
А.Кобединов | Последняя
редакция: 28.10.2003
Развратные мысли преследуют мое
больное сознание и я гною свой
рассудок, в желаниях совокупляться с
вонючею гнилью. Я возбуждаюсь смотря
на рвотную массу, что-то нечеловеческое
присутствует в моей психике. Её лицо
сильно искажается. В ужасных конвульсиях
она царапает свою кожу. Она желает
умереть, и это понятно, не каждый выдержит
мучения, когда слизь и сгнившие внутренности
выходят наружу через ротовое отверстие.
Гнойное желе бьет струей и брызжет.
Девушка похожа на органическое месиво,
зараженное смертельной инфекцией. Все,
что происходит перед моими глазами не
вызывает у меня отвращения. Наоборот
моя страсть и похоть возрастают. Но её тело
меня не интересует! Я развращаюсь с её
рвотой, мой член вонзается в ее гортань.
Слизь и кровь липнут к нему, я лижу её
зловонный язык, гнойники формируются на
нем. Слизываю с её губ все нечистоты.
Я трахаю рвотную массу, вонзая член в
гнилую жижу (смесь крови и плесневелых
внутренностей). Заражение снизило функции
пищеварения. С нарушением обмена веществ
в организме образуются продукты не полного
распада и токсина. Организм подвержен
интоксикации. Токсическое повреждение
почки и отек интерстициальной ткани. В
крови накапливаются азотистые шлаки,
увеличивается уровень остаточного креатина,
индикана... наступает острый психоз.
Едкие соки насквозь прожгли стенки
желудка, скопившейся гной рвет кишки,
слизистое расплавлениевнутренних органов.
Повышается жизнедеятельность гноеродных
бактерий. Подобно вулканическому
извержению внутренности выходят наружу,
и я наслаждаюсь сексом с ядовитой
полусгнившей массой.
|
|
|
|
