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The Old Punker Gleb Mizgir
Guzzled the whole bottle alone,
Sauntering along the boulevard,
Staring at the teen-agers:
«Prodigy» & "Onyx",
Backpacks & comic books,
Why they've grown up so lame,
What the fuck and what a shame!
Chorus:
Murder the teen-ager,
Rapper, roller, pager.
Build them a cuntocalypse!
Kill your generation next!!!
The Old Punker Gleb Mizgir
Looking at the distance and around:
You can't spit and you can't burp
Without hitting one of them!
Hoodies and zephyrs,
Shorts and coke cans
Why they've grown up so lame,
What the fuck and what a shame!
The Old Punker Gleb Mizgir
Smoked a pot of weed
He suspects a fucking student
In every bypasser
Gleb hates both
Guys and girls
They all need to be thrashed
Slaughter everyone! NO FUTURE!!!
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2. |
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When the circus freaks danced,
They were stoned to death,
When the dogs barked at the sun,
Nurses sang them lullabies
When the humanity becomes redundant,
And you hear the sound of frog steps,
Hurry up, bring the message to your fellows:
"Humans, run off the Earth!"
All the dead - to the soil, all the living - to the table,
Feeblings twisted the arms of titans,
Taking the palmful of validolum,
And pulling the nose hair out.
When three mole rats split the firewood
With the burning coals in the eyes
And the skipjacks bounced relentlessly
Transforming into the bullets
When you need to pray just to poop,
When the iron fucks you instead of ironing,
When all the devices will turn on and charge on their own
When the mole will ring as an alarm clock.
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3. |
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The puppet theater has burnt fucking down
And all the dolls have burnt for fuck's sake
That's happened because the watchman Markel
Smoked a joint and fucked a muppet
He bent that bitch over
And took it to the hole you put your hand in
But after the quickie the muppet was reeking
Like a tailpipe
Markel ignited shortly after his partner,
His prickly beard blazed up like a torch,
He tried to survive, but burnt to fucking death,
And his quilted whore as well
Children came to the theatre next morning
To watch a puppet show,
But the puppet theater has burnt fucking down
And all the dolls have burnt for fuck's sake!
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4. |
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I hear the crones' voices
I see the crimson skies
I cry and guffaw silently
Flouncing into the abyss
The last seconds of life
Up to the limit!
The last seconds of life
Toss off a mug of bevvy!
The last seconds of life
Burn them in razzle-dazzle!
The last seconds of life
Up to the limit!
Time is plodding like a turtle,
Pupils full of the blackest terror,
The drugged-out god in the mirror,
Hey god, stick'em up!
Hiding in the seething silence,
I can't find myself even inside me,
I stay out of the fray
Watching me falling from the wall to the ceiling
I smile at such a decline,
The black snivel is all over my face,
Dead grin and empty jug
I wish you to step off like this!
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5. |
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The roads that have been walked are few
Mistakes that have been made are many
And decorations and tunics besot us
Like a fifth for five
All that is left for us
Is hopping from one whorehouse to another
Talking bollocks and scuffling
We're barfed-upon washbasins.
Everyone has a clasping reflex,
Everyone makes a dog of themselves,
It comes to the same thing in the end,
Moral decadence is everywhere,
All the men of low caste
Are sinking in the cow dung
In the epoch of wars and cataclysms
I hail you - the IMMORALISM!
No party lasts forever,
It was fun while it lasted,
Mirrors amuse a freak,
He snots his brains away,
Out hearts seek relief,
Like an unwiped ass,
Let's swill vodka like there's no tomorrow
And cool our coppers on cemetries!
It's not hard for beggar to dress up,
He just needs to belt himself
Poverty is mother of all arts,
We'll find where to hide, pal,
We'll reach out the sky with our claws,
We'll hug our sun,
Though we're surrounded by
Only the freaking cops and faggots.
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6. |
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We creeped there at night -
A gardener didn't catch us out -
Plucked the fruits with dirty fingers,
Nibbled with black teeth,
Crammed into our throats,
Packed into the crates!
Hectically chewed them,
Hectitally threw them!
Choir:
The Apples of Youth
Rejuvenating the blood and bones
The Apples of Youth
Our youth sings and dances!
And after that we made off -
We were dragging our tropheys
Through the night garden alleys
Cackling boldly,
Running and belching,
With bellies and sacks
Full with the laughter vivid,
Strong and young,
Our drink-marinated kidneys,
Our rotten prostate glands,
Our rugged brown faces
Turned to be fresh and young again.
And suddenly we met
That said gardener,
And the blooming thief
Killed him with just a one plumper,
Now we will be
Young forever and ever
Eternally healthy
Both in heat and cold
Our old rags cover
The gardener's body
We won't give any fuck
In upcoming centuries.
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7. |
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When I jacked the tram,
I was completely skittish,
I repeated like a parrot,
"You're all pigs and bastards!"
Through the broken window
I could see my reflection in the moon
My old coat bristled
With spue and filth
Choir:
Rocking-horses galloped away
But now, wickering unhumanly,
With the little help of my iron tram,
I'll go home in a box!
Bearded granny roamed
About the night causeway,
I leaned out of the window
And grabbed her with my fives
So I drove and I rang
Running over all the pigs
Grasping mic in another hand
Wickering crazily!
Then my head began to itch
So I let the granny up
Took a swig from a bottle,
Dawn was beginning to appear.
I stopped the tram,
Took a seat like a passenger,
Light up like a businessman,
Pull my dingbats out.
No deal, far from it
Cops swarmed all over my tram
From all directions
Screaming "Get out!"
First bullet hit me to the eye,
And the second - to the pelvis
And the third - under the rib
And everything has ended.
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8. |
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9. |
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Devil's topic is mole and anti-mole again,
Timeless weasels of multi-humanity,
Drunkard without a family and a booze,
Restless hangmen without the knots,
Foggies, fruits of the childhood,
Red-hot balls,
Knee-length wigs,
Splitting axes and hatchets!
Choir:
Beddy-bye smells of foggies,
Iridescent blood runs,
Song flows like skulls,
Unhuman love!
When he has woes everyone knows
Viaduct through the brains
From the spring to the gums,
Through the dawdle and clucking,
Through the bracket fungus broth,
Sighted persons will guide you to the dreams,
To wash, shave and freshen your nips,
(Honey is sweet, but the bee stings)
Scavenge the scrapyards,
Drink and gorge and sleep and poop.
He was born with a beard,
Noone turned the air blue,
He didn't come in handy
Where he has appeared
The bogeyman was wandering
Through the forests and fields,
Snivelling and slobbering,
Keeping company of worms,
Speak of the devil and he will appear
Tie worm in a bundle, but
Shut your puss about it,
There are no pockets in the coffin!
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10. |
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released August 28, 2001
