1. |
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Wherever I may go, you’ll be there
My loyal life companion, the sense of imperfection I like to wear
I’ll always find some regrets
And doubt if I tried all my best
Mentally compiling the list
Of all the items I’ve missed
The work is going great, so it seems
But as I’m looking closer, the fat fly in the ointment is buzzing at me
And now the drawbacks are clear
(They’re) bare but they won’t disappear
It doesn’t take that much time
To wake up this paranoid mind
I’ll always find some regrets
And doubt if I tried all my best
Mentally compiling the list
I’ll always find some regrets
And doubt if I tried all my best
Mentally compiling the list
Of all the items I’ve missed
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2. |
Let Him Pee
01:39
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Hey you there don't look at me
I'm afraid to pee! I'm afraid to pee!
Standing still in perplexity
I'm afraid to pee! I'm afraid to pee!
For some reason I can't
Urinate in public
And my bladder stays filled
I've got paruresis
Don't you say I'm pernickety
Just afraid to pee! So afraid to pee!
Stuttering near the bathroom stall
I'm afraid to pee! I'm afraid to pee!
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3. |
Tired Of Uøbischnost'
03:05
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Staying up late and reading the news
Bunching my fists with rage and anger
Ruling lunacy is getting daily proof
Is there anything left to ban and arrest?
Is there anything left to steal or disgrace?
Or maybe there is someone to take down a peg?
This machine is heading for sublime ideals
Nevermind the people getting under wheels
Scream out loud or stay indifferent, prefer not to see
In the end, it doesn’t matter, we are on the skids
Our sympathy is gone, our empathy is dead
Emotions erode and become blinkered
The more outrage we hear, the sooner we forget
They give us illusions of easier ride
Distracting our thoughts, they shape agenda
While we waste our breath and dance after their pipe
Why concern ourselves with paths to better things?
Let’s just emphasize our sacred destiny
Look around, it’s just imitation, whatever we do
We’re killing time, searching for meaning in predefined rules
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4. |
Yubileynaya, 50
00:36
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Came here to collect my parcel
With a friendly smile on my face
But now I’m stuck here for 2 hours
What a dense ungodly place
I hate my local post-office
There’re always too many people
And just one cashier is working
Until she wants to have a lunch-break
Endless line of angry grannies
At any given time of day
They argue and blame Boris Yeltsin
If not for him it wouldn’t be that way
I hate my local post-office
There’re always too many people
And just one cashier is working
And if there’s both it’s just a paradise on earth
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Jet Packs город Владимир, Russian Federation
Our friends have warned us:
“You’ll be a Myspace band”
But now it’s clear that they were wrong
Since we’re not Myspace band
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