A keresés eredménye

Fucked Up

Versions: #2
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
 
I'm confusing myself with others, how could I admit it
I could push them out from myself, or beat them up
Many people could do the same, I have high expectations of what I am
Cheating myself seas and rivers, when normal life is do boring
Stories, you believe them, they could be true if it'd depend on me
It's not always like that, it isn't our heaven, anyway
So they're bothering you for nothing, you just shuffled the deck properly
I'm searching for a vacant spot from my heart and vein, good morning
 
I do against to what I'm told to do, my head is mine, it's mine
I'm afraid that it'll blow up, that it'd suddenly go boom boom
And I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head
I went outside alone, escaped my thoughts
Woke up from a park bench having nightmares
 
Somehow this was predicted by Max Weber: if someone has one, I got to get two
Even though we understood this since we were small, we don't need any luxury for anything
When the economy is haywire and the world's spinning like a pinwheel
It's not a surprise that the electroencephalogram is shaped like a crooked curl
The specs are in disorder, food and sex, only drugs can make you happy
 
I do against to what I'm told to do, my head is mine, it's mine
I'm afraid that it'll blow up, that it'd suddenly go boom boom
And I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head
I went outside alone, escaped my thoughts
Woke up from a park bench having nightmares
 
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
 
All young people are insane, and the old ones even more so
Just let the brains rest and lighten up your mind, the world is made by madmen
The head hasn't learned anything, this is exactly what you think it is
When the powder is wet, the mood is more like a gyroscope than a Rubik's square
Who wants to be fine, who wants to be boring
Are you half full or half empty, no one gives a shit
What's my job here, I put my dreams in a bottle and I'll recycle them
The cotton stick is already in too deep, feeling sick but in a good way
 
I do against to what I'm told to do, my head is mine, it's mine
I'm afraid that it'll blow up, that it'd suddenly go boom boom
And I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head, I fucked up my head
I went outside alone, escaped my thoughts
Woke up from a park bench having nightmares
 
fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
fucked up, fucked up, fucked up
 

November

[Verse 1: Tommishock]
 
Happiness is the fourth plateau, hey what are you doing?
Are you going to the finish if you get that far?
Everyone's gloomy, children are raised as orphans, debts grow with interests
There are so many of us, misstept
Believed that they stepped to the garden of paradise, but they stepped into a trap
Karma, the cold troubles, a grey suburb
The wrath of this melancholic nation grows when
They search for the guilty with their narrow leers
When half of us already dropped from the ride
And the other half is already in inspection
When the real guilty ones continue to sell
And everyone relies on moral and law
Fundamental hate for the Quran
And the christians killed their saviour
So who could save this anxious nation
And a frail mind always missteps
And November covers the traces
And a frail mind always missteps
When the individuals created by the society leave their responsibilities to others
Farewell to welfares
We sometimes swim in too deep waters
Show your care sometimes to the others, too
When the remainder of the glass of water dried in the throat
 
It feels good, that what kills you
Feels good, that which hurts the most
Feels good, that what brings you down
Feels good, it feeels good yes
It feels good
 
[Verse 2: Pyhimys]
 
It feels good. It feels good. It feels good
It feels good, when the chances are gone
Veni, vidi, but didn't win never midi, so semi
Cries at a storm, asks with the knuckle, it deepens in the autumn
I erect to the ones who stand the statue
It isn't a playground without toy guns, make-up pigs, Hyssälä
We played pilots, they played social workers
We don't have the time to run, but let's collect running shoes
A frail mind always missteps
When the individuals created by society leave their own responsibility
And to his own bill, the boss cuts extra price to his own pocket from a block of cheese
In the bench vice of the vocational school the principal is fastened from his tie
Over the weekend, still alive
As the head of these families is one of us
Even though one wouldn't easily believe from the farmhand
And November covers everything
Before this destroction the most calloused becomes interested
At least with substances they become grey ahead of time
And when the children come back from the camp, their mouths taste bitter
My toe bone foretells thunder
Plays the aria of Sysmä and the blues of Vammala
But as the most broken one can't even be more broken
It doesn't feel bad, but...
 
It feels good, that what kills you
Feels good, that which hurts the most
Feels good, that what brings you down
Feels good, it feeels good yes
It feels good
 
It feels good. It feels good.
 
[Verse 3: Paperi T]
Former decadent rapper now steals poems
In the morning cereal, tears as streams
As a child wanted to be the Wolfhound Roi 1
Now smokes like Bogart and wails
Starts to resemble a journeyman
Its studio flat incubator
Let them take all, prevent all
If you can't stand the November, get out of the kitchen 2
And nothing is too strong now
Rhymebooks and phosphore pens
November changes to December
Or on bad days back to October
Becomes paralyzed when faced with others
nee save me i have shortage of extinction
Playing shithead with God
Which cards did Satan get?
Because it feels like others than the boats in the port
Would be starting to leave
And the low fences of backyard are still wet from the paint
But the sky shall rain and the paintwork suffers
Coulisse, a miss, The Lion of Finland
Tapio to the people and a new pair of Reinos 3
Tapani Kansa, Apulanta, Heinola
Necessity isn't the mother of invention
No crazy days to this country
Come to bury me under the clock of Stockmann
What does it tell about us that even love is nowadays such a pervert ism
I am afraid that when all of this is over where do I lie
 

• 1. Wolfound Roi
• 2. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen
• 3. Reinot

Bellend Époque

One blasts, the second carries, the third shoots, the father hasn't got a father
The fourth sleeps when there was time left for it
And the fifth doesn't have any motives
And still there are too many obstacles
To the university to study the estethics of language
Pedicurist, console game junkie
Brand elitist, five million maids
This generation is useless
I'm not jobless but what's the point of this job
'I need to work' has corroded into my brain
These structures have bended to support consumption
The value of clothes isn't warmth or cover
One doesn't die for their ideology, no
Another Ideapark on some swamp*
But there's no new ideas conceived there
I relax at home
and buy a new Piltti* when I see the frightful Rölli*** from my plasma television
Long age in mind, I smoke a light cigarette
And I recycle a can 'Oh, I get to a good mood'
I have been working like a lemming
The calendar says 'have a day off today'
We don't have a direction to go on
From the cover we're wondering where we could get a new mogul
 
These are shitty times
These are shitty times
We don't get shit done here
These are shitty times
 
What's the hurry in the finished world?
I have moved to a high-rise
But I'm not closer to heaven, closer to wealth, and I'm not closer to the light
You came to visit at a bad time but let's keep in touch, okay?
Koff-cap towards Rodos
Ew, damn, I am out like a Finnish sex tourist in Thailand sucking a cocos
Kieślowski's colors fly away from the head
The last time I was this frozen was in Pipefest's stage in '06
Let's talk about the weather
It has been raining shit again so much that one can't tell the toilet from the head
Hahaha, excrements still make people laugh
But no one laughs at living in them
The peace is remained when the guns are in the air
But without guns there won't be a peace
'It's only a baby' they say about a young murderer
Zooming people with a rifle from the treehouse
Fun like in Puuhamaa****
People bounce when they don't know what else to do
 
These are shitty times
I can smell it in the air
Taste it in the morning
These are shitty times
These are shitty times
 
How have I ended up here?
Regards, a guy languished to the snowpiles of Kamppi
Frozen stuck to this excessive bedlam
When the workdays can make a strong person an orphan in fifteen minutes
I bite the bullet, I cut through all my obstacles,
I tell the joke half-bakedly just as they did
I wind the tape to the beginning, I press 'rec'
So that i don't have to think a lot what those talk about
I need peace where no one puts pressure on me for the weight of the money
Illegal, the can collects the dust off the persecutions
Broken from the loans, too close to the institution
All left in the brain, feeling quite furious
2002 I complained of my problems
These days every feeling is strongly gone
I don't have anything else left,
Except for the things with the broken arm which I am ashames of
Visions which rapheads can't see
It goes well when no one comes close, and I go away
And because of those jokes the land fell apart
When you give too much to others, you get less yourself
And we will see each other again one day
But these days words are just too heavy
And they ask why I haven't done anything yet
And they don't understand what kind of a secret I need to keep