2019.03.10.
Observer
Verse 1:Getting ready to be killed in the coming war,
I envy those who died in childhood in their sleep.
Every day I am surprised more and more
what i'm still alive.
You know when you get to thirty,
thoughts come where to go
now, what do you do next in a world,
where every step, damn, is paid for,
and did you do everything you needed,
did your get exactly what deserved?
What for you have been made an efforts
all of these years and miles?
Or may be you were banged and washed up?
My friends were lost and died,
my women grew old and betrayed me.
There’s hardly anything new about it,
but it was with me, and it was my pain, man.
Everything I was going for has been a bluff in the world
living by the law of Carnegie and Gref1.
And I'm going wobbly like a ridiculous clown -
abandoned and empty. Not wheat, but tare.
I just can not see things easy.
So I can’t call anyone a boss.
So I could not become neither blind nor whore.
It looks like, I do not get on with reality.
And so I became an observer, a traitor
of this world, its enemy.
And how cool it all seems,
I am here because the Matrix is around us.
And it seems I know how this show will end.
I don't think that is good, but
what should i do for now?
Just sing, and wait, and observe.
Chorus:
We are all Alices and white rabbits.
Do you know for whom the bell tolls?
All will get equal pain.
Where are the faces of those who look in my direction?
Verse 2:
A good rapper is a dead rapper.
The theorem is tested by time, guys.
Now, believe, babies, I’m going to shock you:
as long as possible I will not be good.
I am an observer. I am an uninvited guest.
However, all of us are horses a little2 in the hash of hopeless lives.
All of us are not licked by fate3.
But where is The One of this Matrix?
What, let it happen on its own?
Live as prescribed?
Like, do not get ahead of yourself –
they will cut the head clean off?
And then, if you had not been going sour young,
you find out yourself at the wrong place.
And it is unlikely that you will have fun
be surrounded by alien people and songs, man.
And I need strength to stay longer
here, where the days are like strikes under ilium,
here, where the nights are longer and bitter,
here, where blood come out the skin.
And snow is shutting up open mouths,
and rivers flow with neither honey and milk, but with blood.
And there is nobody to ask why he left us,
introduced us and then framed.
Give me a reason to be loyal,
at least one reason to play by the rules.
Rules are for normal, man,
for those who are not observant, right?
Okay. Stop whims.
After all, someone will be called to become The One.
You or me. I do not know yet.
I'm observing and waiting for a call.
Chorus