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22.03.2007, 16:05
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#1 |
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Nvllivs in verba
Репутация: 2445
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Raised Fist
Raised Fist
hardcore punk/metal, Sweden  Биография: Март 1993-го, второй по величине очаг шведского хардкор движения - город Luleе. Пятеро школьников (всем от 16 до 18), уже успевших поиграть вместе в какой-то группе (подробности история умалчивает), решают организовать новый бэнд, чтобы лабать в нем бескомпромиссный и жесткий олдскул хардкор. Идея отличная, базара нет - поэтому назовем по именам этих отчаянных парней: Александр (Alexander) - вокал, Петер (Peter) - барабаны, Джоссе (Josse) - бас, Томми (Tommy) - гитара и Петри (Petri) - тоже гитара. Проблема с названием группы была решена самым старшим - 18-летним барабанщиком Питом, который был явно не равнодушен к творчеству Rage Against The Machine, ведь именно в их песне «Know Your Enemy» он расслышал строчку «Born with an insight and a Raised fist» на что немедленно и указал своим младшим товарищам. Так у группы родилось название - Raised Fist. Определившись с названием парни начинают репетировать и даже иногда выступать, правда пока исключительно для своей тусовки. Их тогдашний стиль вполне можно определить как хардкор нью-йоркской школы с заметным влиянием Strife, CIV, Gorilla Biscuits и Youth Of Today. Не ограничиваясь тупым копированием творчества кумиров, банда постепенно вырабатывает собственный стиль - жесткая политизированная лирика, яростный (и в тоже время мелодичный) вокал и агрессивная музыкальная подача. Их потуги не остаются незамеченными и вскоре дельцы из Crucial Response выходят на связь с фронтмэном Александром «Alle» с предложением заключить контракт. Думаете парни согласились? Не тут-то было! Пораскинув мозгой, они отказываются от предложения (типа нахрена нам немецкий лэйбл, когда под боком есть свой не хуже) и в свою очередь контачат с Burning Heart Records. Те, послушав демку, принимают группу с распростертыми объятиями. Заключив контракт, группа зависает на некоторое время в студии и записывает свой первый диск - EP «You’re Not Like Me» (1994). Дебют удается - альбом неплохо раскупается, а банда тем временем колесит по Швеции с концертами, завоевывая известность. Вскоре группу покидает один из гитаристов - Томми, на смену которому приходит чувак по имени Песон (Peson). Засветившись в нескольких компиляциях, парни пишут свой второй EP - «Stronger Than Ever», перед этим выгнав Песона и заменив его новым гитаристом Марко (Marco). Несмотря на относительный успех нового альбома, в группе неожиданно серьезно встает кадровый вопрос. Инициировал проблему барабанщик Пит (да-да, тот самый фэн Rage Against The Machine), который кидает хардкор братву и уезжает путешествовать по миру. Нехороший поступок. Вскоре за ним сваливает гитарист Петри и парни остаются втроем. Судьба группы висит на волоске. Так бы мы с вами и остались с этой скромной парой EP-шников, но как известно реальные хардкорщики сражаются до последнего! Оставшаяся троица начинает доказывать эту непреложную истину делом. Вокалист Alle становится еще и барабанщиком, Джоссе лабает попеременно то на гитаре, то на басу, плюс Марко в качестве второго гитариста - в таком безумном составе трио начинает репетировать новый материал и даже пытается записать новый альбом. Дело однако продвигается ни шатко ни валко, и вскоре становится очевидно, что чтобы закончить запись нужен барабанщик. Его поиски в конце концов приводят к одному волосатому перцу по имени Оскар (Oskar), который уже успел побарабанить в целой пачке разнообразных метал бэндов. Оскар оказывается клевым чуваком и соглашается постучать в студии на записи нового альбома. Так появился «Fuel» (1998), первый полноформатный диск группы, который представлял собой всё тоже хардкор месилово, но в отличие от предыдущих работ, уже со значительными вкраплениями металла а-ля Machine Head (проделки Оскара?). Диск получает неплохую прессу (в частности, Kerrang! оценил его четверкой). У банды вырисовывается концертный тур, но с кем играть? Второго гитариста как не было так и нет, а Оскар уже дело свое сделал - с записью помог. Тем не менее парни уговаривают его сыграть с ними несколько концертов и уже после первого из них Оскар, видимо проникшись духом хардкора и единения, царившими в зале, соглашается остаться в группе. Вопрос с гитаристом был решен просто - решили что хватит одного Марко. Проблемы с составом позади. Несмотря на регулярные концертные выступления, группа 3 раза в неделю собирается на репах и это при том, что параллельно все участники еще продолжают учиться в школе! А шустрый Алле (подпольное погоняло фронтмэна) в добавок еще и открывает собственную звукозаписывающую компанию Stronghold Records. В 2000-ом парни, наконец-то отмучавшись со школой, получают возможность в полной мере сосредоточиться на концертных выступлениях, в том числе и за границей. В этом же году выходит второй альбом - «Ignoring The Guidelines» (2000), продюссером которого выступил Дэниэл Бергстанд (Daniel Bergstrand) - до этого он работал с Machine Head и Meshuggah. Релиз состоялся в мае, а записан диск был еще в январе на Dugout Studio. Металла стало значительно меньше, группа вернулась к хардкор звучанию времен первых двух EP-шек, что определенно пошло ей на пользу - альбом получился очень удачным. На одну из песен - «Breaking Me Up!» группа снимается в своем первом студийном видео. Чуть позже парни подписывают контракт с Epitaph, которые в 2001-ом переиздают этот альбом. На Epitaph выходит и альбом - «Dedication» (2002), продюссером которого вновь стал Дэниэл Бергстанд. Мощный, жесткий и яростный хардкор в духе предыдущей работы делает их одними из лучших в своем жанре. И есть все шансы, что в ближайшее время они ими и останутся. Пожелаем им удачи! Состав: Marco Eronen - гитара Daniel Holmberg - гитара Matte Modin - барабаны Andreas "Josse" Johansson - бас Alexander "Alle" Rajkovic - вокал Дискография: 1994 - You're Not Like Me  1996 - Stronger Than Ever  1998 - Fuel  2000 - Ignoring The Guidelines  2001 - Watch Your Step  2002 - Dedication  2006 - Sound Of The Republic  2009 - Veil Of Ignorance (CBR 320)  тексты"Friends And Traitors" Noticing all these changes, widening our fucking ranges, writing down all these pages, usually filled with rage when I jump onto the stages. I’ve been demolishing your bullshit for ages, this time I’m breaking it, our friendship, your smile. See you in the city while you are faking it. From Hertz Island we expanded, never delivered or landed, more than the label demanded. Competition telling us to follow those guidelines, and to stay right handed but music comes from the heart, lyrics from my head to my hand, and I 'm left handed. My friend watch out for the traitors. I see them but I try to close my eyes for the haters. My name is Alexander, the Raised Fist commander, the unsinkable ship never stranded. Not trendy, not even branded, 16 years and never disbanded, from Hertz Island we expanded. And I try to keep myself sober, until the tour is over, think I’ve grown a bit older. I’m burning inside, but my outside is much colder, competition telling us to follow guidelines, to stay right handed. Music from the heart, lyrics from the head to my hand and I’m left handed. "They Can't Keep Us Down" Does it make a difference if we play punk rock, and unlock the mysteries of hardcore and walk around the block, in trendy clothes, pretending to be superstars, or younger than we are? We just want to play drums, bass and guitar. No make-up, nothing bizarre, vocals but no stories from a far. Still we gather more power in our hands, than your collection of one thousand bands and you know that. They can’t keep us down. Still around adding something new to the sound. Even if we go half speed, still delivering songs that people need, to get through their lives. So we move between the sharpest knives, ready to cut us down, try to deprive us all from what we need to survive, but you know that. "Wounds" Do you know how I feel, I see the concrete walls closing in on my memory. I have a way of digging things up from the past, this is another one that goes out to our friends who breathed their last. The past comes flooding back . The past comes flooding back to me, turning around all the debris. Time is passing by. This goes out to the Raised Fist survivors, and our friends who went to sleep. No matter how I try to conceal, I have a big stone in my chest, a rift in my heart that I can’t seal . Time passes by, but this is the type of wound, that will never heal. "Afraid" Your superpower dream is blowing up steam. Trying to create the land of the supreme. The decision making leave my heart aching. They smooth up their lips with vaseline. But talk is cheap, cheaper than gasoline. People are afraid of intruders, to get sued. Even afraid of the food , afraid to be rude, afraid of getting pursued. They are afraid of life. Trying to find an upside, people might be afraid to commit suicide. But unfortunately people die by bombs applied , when desperation is oversupplied. Taking lives, leaving witnesses cold as ice. "Slipping Into Coma" It’s time to realize that our stay on this planet is just temporary. Everyday we come closer to the end by bursting out in rivalry. The tension, anger and anxiety puts a mental mark on us, don't you agree? When we look up in the sky, standing on our knees begging that the documentaries on Discovery are just fucking lies on the TV screen. People tell me to be less pessimistic, but I 'm just trying real hard to be realistic. I feel my anger rise as I’m witnessing that people are slipping into coma. People are spending dollars on water tapped in fancy bottles. And don't you agree? The gesture is not so much an act of stupidity. It 's just a sign of our destructive mentality. When we look into the pacific sea, and find a continent of plastic so unreal. We know how to shrug it off our shoulders, what a fucking valuable ability. Indeed the human race made its mark, soon this will be over. All of this provoked me into writing this piece, we must be slipping into a coma. "City Of Cold" We live in the city of cold. And even though I have to admit, that sometimes we love to spit on it. But I would take a million bullets for it, the centre of this story. And when I quit, to commit to the pit. And when I’ve stopped to transmit, bury me in a hole under my favourite tree. Wait a bit, say goodbye, put a fucking lid on it and split. We live in the cit y of cold, strangely enough we’re proud of it. When at home burning the flag, when away living in a bag. Getting mad, feeling sad. City of cold, on with the shoeshine. Stepping on those fucking toes, now and forever. The city of cold where you can't grow old. And when I quit to commit to the pit. And when I've stopped to transmit, bury me in a fucking hole, wait a bit, say goodbye and off you go. We live in the cit y of snow. So small and cold , five hundred years old . No stories untold, no one is in control . Sounds cute I know, small city with snow, one street, no flow. And even though I mostly hate the snow, now and forever, it 's better then hating people I don't even know. And even if you want your own fame to grow, I wouldn’t talk shit about people I don't even know. "Volcano Is Me" This has just begun, there's nothing fun, nothing is new under the sun. None of this shit will last in the long run, none of this will come undone. When you impose your will , I stand still, but in my mind I go crazy like a windmill. I guess you can't handle happiness, at least not if it's mine. Looks like you are getting depressed. And yes, I have to confess, that every sign of my progress, puts you in a deeper mess. When you impose your will, I stand still . But in my mind I go crazy like a windmill. When you can' t see, the Volcano is me. Volcano is me. The wrong buttons are being pressed, with razorblades you seem to caress. You speak and move with no finesse, and I can't invest in such a friendship with that address. I go crazy like a windmill, but when I don’t want anymore and try to ignore, you come back knocking on my door. Prepared for war, sick of your insults and lies, your abusive eyes. All the bad words, time for me to rise. "Disbelief" A new divorce, I want to separate myself from all these endless cold blooded wars. I close my eyes but wherever I turn myself I find another source of no remorse. Moving towards the verge of collapse and I can't force you or anyone else to help me to restore. And I despise, when we act like all this came as a surprise and we don’t see why. The skies filled with bombers. And we have to bear in mind, that children die in the third world because of lies. What a surprise, the suddenness of the crisis demands us all to rise. Disbelief, sadness and guilt. Breaking down everything beautiful we built. And the residents, flooded out of their houses by the thousands as the sky went black. Another conflict is evolving and there is no turning back , we shake our heads in disgust as we see the almost dead people, keep begging for water and bread. The stealth bomber will find it ’s way, sneaking up on its pray. It 's fairly depressing to conclude, that this is just another bad day. And we have to bear in mind that children die, in the third. "My Last Day" I 'm maybe not so unique, I seem to get it all wrong when I'm angry and when I try to speak. I know I misbehaved, and that you always forgave, now I understand that you just turned into a silent cave. I wish I could redo some of all these hurting moves, I really wish that I had time left to improve. But as I’m lying here imagining figures in the concrete ceiling above, I realize, this is my last day. Now all this is perfectly clear and it feel s like I 'm going insane. Lying here still fully awaiting the darkness to take me away from this pain. This is my last day. The darkness is taking me away from this pain. So weak. Once I was stronger than a lion, with an enormous physique. Now I’m just bleak, desperately trying to shut the leak, to where my life seems to seek. I wish I could redo some of these hurting moves. I really wish that I had time left to improve. Now all this is perfectly clear and it feels like I 'm going insane. Lying here still fully awaiting the darkness to take me away from this pain. This is my last day. The darkness is taking me away from this pain. "I Have To Pretend" Feel like I have the wrong outfit, like people read my inner secrets on my back. My fake smile is just looking for someone to please, sunlight means struggle and I'm lost, the only time I feel alive is when I fall asleep. Look into my eyes I promise you’ll find no lies. But you act like I’m contagious, you make me feel so sad inside. I have to pretend, that I still have friends. But they act like I’m contagious, I want to confide. I just want to satisfy. Passing through the lines, with different kinds of signs. Every door in the corridor is a possible cave of hate and I’m no hero to turn things around, my backpacks have lots of things inside, definitely not pride. Looking at my feet, trying not to collide. And I have to pretend that I still have lots of friends, that are backing me up but they back me up against the wall, I guess the story tells it all. "Words And Phrases" Words and phrases are lining up in my head. I’m catching my breath before I lay another verse on the table. I can’t sleep in this bed, until I get the words out of head. And I try to embrace them all before I let myself get carried away. And I must say, a privilege like this doesn’t come every other day, I have to thank all of you for the stay. Mistakes and heartaches, deceiving fakes, we do what it takes to protect ourselves from the demons and the snakes. Don't underestimate yourself. You have the strength within, don't sit on the fucking brake. This is just a wake up call. Don't think we know them all. Perfect is not what I want you to be, it’s just not me, it’s just not me. From spring to hard frost, I’m following you. Even though the design of our life was broken into a million pieces. But let us sit down, use some glue and tell me the fucking truth. Mistakes and heartaches, deceiving fakes, we do what it takes to protect ourselves from the demons and the snakes. Don't underestimate yourself. You have the strength within, don’t sit on the fucking brake. "Keeping It To Yourself" You need a friend today, but it never happens after knowing your name. Before people say Good Day they ask how much you weigh, then they say your skin looks gray. You put a lock on yourself, and try to throw the key so far away from all the demons, so called specialist grown-ups, commenting between the cups of coffee, putting you in cuffs. You are the writer of a novel of pain, still no one understands That you feel ashamed because - You keep it to yourself. Keeping it to yourself. You need a friend today, but it never happens after knowing your name. They say you have a distorted view on yourself, but how can the view be anything else but wrong, hearing the same old song. You put a lock on yourself, and try to throw the key so far away, from all the demons and the grown ups, putting you in fucking cuffs. "Never Negotiate" The reasons are complex, still a major factor is to blame. Thankfully it won’t last forever, not as long as we carry this flame. The executive arms of murder have gained too much fame and the fame is just what's going to bring them to shame and make them lose the game. Despite your hostile tactics, we never negotiate. Despite this sense of injustice and guilt, we never negotiate. Every day and night , we keep on going straight, and never negotiate. Listen to my heartrate when we twist the debate. It’s a part of our fate. And when all the people know, you will go under. We are sending you down below, and you will just wonder. Why we are striking down like thunder, not a place for you to go. Not a place for you to go. Worldwide connection made up a reason for bombs in the Middle East. It’s a shameful and genius act to say the least. Politicians lobbying their cause, the creation of new laws. Tossing innocent children into the jaws. It’s cause for another round of applause. [свернуть] Ссылки: Myspace Неофициальный сайт _________________________________________________________________________________ Последний раз редактировалось wanchope; 11.09.2009 в 23:37. |
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| 77 пользователя(ей) сказали спасибо: |
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01.09.2009, 19:49
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#32 |
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lossless
Репутация: 9
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Re: Raised Fist
Raised Fist - Veil Of Ignorance (2009) 320 Kbps
 01. Friends And Traitors 1 02. They Can't Keep Us Down 03. Wounds 04. Afraid 05. Slipping Into Coma 06. City Of Cold 07. Volcana Is Me 08. Disbelief 09. My Last Day 10. I Have To Pretend 11. Words And Phrases 12. Keeping It To Yourself 13. Never Negotiate 14. Out http://www.mediafire.com/?nywjyynnzuv http://rapidshare.com/files/27433244...2009_.rar.html http://hotfile.com/dl/11277089/1a585...09%29.rar.html Налетаааааааай, новый альбом! Последний раз редактировалось Credo; 01.09.2009 в 23:29. |
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| 5 пользователя(ей) сказали спасибо: | ictus (01.09.2009), Les (03.09.2009), Sergio (01.09.2009), wanchope (01.09.2009), what will remain (01.09.2009) |
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01.09.2009, 19:56
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#35 |
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Nvllivs in verba
Репутация: 2445
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Re: Raised Fist
Не-не-не, пускай остается. Мож кому так удобнее
 Добавлено через 1 минуту Raised Fist - 2009 - Veil Of Ignorance (CBR 320) |
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| 16 пользователя(ей) сказали спасибо: | 5302m (02.09.2009), Campos (01.09.2009), chaoticpulse (01.09.2009), Chivilev (08.10.2009), Concubine (01.09.2009), Credo (01.09.2009), Final Expression (01.09.2009), ictus (01.09.2009), Les (03.09.2009), Raven (02.09.2009), sal (11.09.2009), Sergio (01.09.2009), smvgy (01.09.2009), Stakan (07.09.2009), what will remain (01.09.2009), zuzya (16.02.2010) |
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01.09.2009, 21:42
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#41 |
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digipack
Репутация: 441
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Re: Raised Fist
тексты Veil Of Ignorance"Friends And Traitors" Noticing all these changes, widening our fucking ranges, writing down all these pages, usually filled with rage when I jump onto the stages. I’ve been demolishing your bullshit for ages, this time I’m breaking it, our friendship, your smile. See you in the city while you are faking it. From Hertz Island we expanded, never delivered or landed, more than the label demanded. Competition telling us to follow those guidelines, and to stay right handed but music comes from the heart, lyrics from my head to my hand, and I 'm left handed. My friend watch out for the traitors. I see them but I try to close my eyes for the haters. My name is Alexander, the Raised Fist commander, the unsinkable ship never stranded. Not trendy, not even branded, 16 years and never disbanded, from Hertz Island we expanded. And I try to keep myself sober, until the tour is over, think I’ve grown a bit older. I’m burning inside, but my outside is much colder, competition telling us to follow guidelines, to stay right handed. Music from the heart, lyrics from the head to my hand and I’m left handed. "They Can't Keep Us Down" Does it make a difference if we play punk rock, and unlock the mysteries of hardcore and walk around the block, in trendy clothes, pretending to be superstars, or younger than we are? We just want to play drums, bass and guitar. No make-up, nothing bizarre, vocals but no stories from a far. Still we gather more power in our hands, than your collection of one thousand bands and you know that. They can’t keep us down. Still around adding something new to the sound. Even if we go half speed, still delivering songs that people need, to get through their lives. So we move between the sharpest knives, ready to cut us down, try to deprive us all from what we need to survive, but you know that. "Wounds" Do you know how I feel, I see the concrete walls closing in on my memory. I have a way of digging things up from the past, this is another one that goes out to our friends who breathed their last. The past comes flooding back . The past comes flooding back to me, turning around all the debris. Time is passing by. This goes out to the Raised Fist survivors, and our friends who went to sleep. No matter how I try to conceal, I have a big stone in my chest, a rift in my heart that I can’t seal . Time passes by, but this is the type of wound, that will never heal. "Afraid" Your superpower dream is blowing up steam. Trying to create the land of the supreme. The decision making leave my heart aching. They smooth up their lips with vaseline. But talk is cheap, cheaper than gasoline. People are afraid of intruders, to get sued. Even afraid of the food , afraid to be rude, afraid of getting pursued. They are afraid of life. Trying to find an upside, people might be afraid to commit suicide. But unfortunately people die by bombs applied , when desperation is oversupplied. Taking lives, leaving witnesses cold as ice. "Slipping Into Coma" It’s time to realize that our stay on this planet is just temporary. Everyday we come closer to the end by bursting out in rivalry. The tension, anger and anxiety puts a mental mark on us, don't you agree? When we look up in the sky, standing on our knees begging that the documentaries on Discovery are just fucking lies on the TV screen. People tell me to be less pessimistic, but I 'm just trying real hard to be realistic. I feel my anger rise as I’m witnessing that people are slipping into coma. People are spending dollars on water tapped in fancy bottles. And don't you agree? The gesture is not so much an act of stupidity. It 's just a sign of our destructive mentality. When we look into the pacific sea, and find a continent of plastic so unreal. We know how to shrug it off our shoulders, what a fucking valuable ability. Indeed the human race made its mark, soon this will be over. All of this provoked me into writing this piece, we must be slipping into a coma. "City Of Cold" We live in the city of cold. And even though I have to admit, that sometimes we love to spit on it. But I would take a million bullets for it, the centre of this story. And when I quit, to commit to the pit. And when I’ve stopped to transmit, bury me in a hole under my favourite tree. Wait a bit, say goodbye, put a fucking lid on it and split. We live in the cit y of cold, strangely enough we’re proud of it. When at home burning the flag, when away living in a bag. Getting mad, feeling sad. City of cold, on with the shoeshine. Stepping on those fucking toes, now and forever. The city of cold where you can't grow old. And when I quit to commit to the pit. And when I've stopped to transmit, bury me in a fucking hole, wait a bit, say goodbye and off you go. We live in the cit y of snow. So small and cold , five hundred years old . No stories untold, no one is in control . Sounds cute I know, small city with snow, one street, no flow. And even though I mostly hate the snow, now and forever, it 's better then hating people I don't even know. And even if you want your own fame to grow, I wouldn’t talk shit about people I don't even know. "Volcano Is Me" This has just begun, there's nothing fun, nothing is new under the sun. None of this shit will last in the long run, none of this will come undone. When you impose your will , I stand still, but in my mind I go crazy like a windmill. I guess you can't handle happiness, at least not if it's mine. Looks like you are getting depressed. And yes, I have to confess, that every sign of my progress, puts you in a deeper mess. When you impose your will, I stand still . But in my mind I go crazy like a windmill. When you can' t see, the Volcano is me. Volcano is me. The wrong buttons are being pressed, with razorblades you seem to caress. You speak and move with no finesse, and I can't invest in such a friendship with that address. I go crazy like a windmill, but when I don’t want anymore and try to ignore, you come back knocking on my door. Prepared for war, sick of your insults and lies, your abusive eyes. All the bad words, time for me to rise. "Disbelief" A new divorce, I want to separate myself from all these endless cold blooded wars. I close my eyes but wherever I turn myself I find another source of no remorse. Moving towards the verge of collapse and I can't force you or anyone else to help me to restore. And I despise, when we act like all this came as a surprise and we don’t see why. The skies filled with bombers. And we have to bear in mind, that children die in the third world because of lies. What a surprise, the suddenness of the crisis demands us all to rise. Disbelief, sadness and guilt. Breaking down everything beautiful we built. And the residents, flooded out of their houses by the thousands as the sky went black. Another conflict is evolving and there is no turning back , we shake our heads in disgust as we see the almost dead people, keep begging for water and bread. The stealth bomber will find it ’s way, sneaking up on its pray. It 's fairly depressing to conclude, that this is just another bad day. And we have to bear in mind that children die, in the third. "My Last Day" I 'm maybe not so unique, I seem to get it all wrong when I'm angry and when I try to speak. I know I misbehaved, and that you always forgave, now I understand that you just turned into a silent cave. I wish I could redo some of all these hurting moves, I really wish that I had time left to improve. But as I’m lying here imagining figures in the concrete ceiling above, I realize, this is my last day. Now all this is perfectly clear and it feel s like I 'm going insane. Lying here still fully awaiting the darkness to take me away from this pain. This is my last day. The darkness is taking me away from this pain. So weak. Once I was stronger than a lion, with an enormous physique. Now I’m just bleak, desperately trying to shut the leak, to where my life seems to seek. I wish I could redo some of these hurting moves. I really wish that I had time left to improve. Now all this is perfectly clear and it feels like I 'm going insane. Lying here still fully awaiting the darkness to take me away from this pain. This is my last day. The darkness is taking me away from this pain. "I Have To Pretend" Feel like I have the wrong outfit, like people read my inner secrets on my back. My fake smile is just looking for someone to please, sunlight means struggle and I'm lost, the only time I feel alive is when I fall asleep. Look into my eyes I promise you’ll find no lies. But you act like I’m contagious, you make me feel so sad inside. I have to pretend, that I still have friends. But they act like I’m contagious, I want to confide. I just want to satisfy. Passing through the lines, with different kinds of signs. Every door in the corridor is a possible cave of hate and I’m no hero to turn things around, my backpacks have lots of things inside, definitely not pride. Looking at my feet, trying not to collide. And I have to pretend that I still have lots of friends, that are backing me up but they back me up against the wall, I guess the story tells it all. "Words And Phrases" Words and phrases are lining up in my head. I’m catching my breath before I lay another verse on the table. I can’t sleep in this bed, until I get the words out of head. And I try to embrace them all before I let myself get carried away. And I must say, a privilege like this doesn’t come every other day, I have to thank all of you for the stay. Mistakes and heartaches, deceiving fakes, we do what it takes to protect ourselves from the demons and the snakes. Don't underestimate yourself. You have the strength within, don't sit on the fucking brake. This is just a wake up call. Don't think we know them all. Perfect is not what I want you to be, it’s just not me, it’s just not me. From spring to hard frost, I’m following you. Even though the design of our life was broken into a million pieces. But let us sit down, use some glue and tell me the fucking truth. Mistakes and heartaches, deceiving fakes, we do what it takes to protect ourselves from the demons and the snakes. Don't underestimate yourself. You have the strength within, don’t sit on the fucking brake. "Keeping It To Yourself" You need a friend today, but it never happens after knowing your name. Before people say Good Day they ask how much you weigh, then they say your skin looks gray. You put a lock on yourself, and try to throw the key so far away from all the demons, so called specialist grown-ups, commenting between the cups of coffee, putting you in cuffs. You are the writer of a novel of pain, still no one understands That you feel ashamed because - You keep it to yourself. Keeping it to yourself. You need a friend today, but it never happens after knowing your name. They say you have a distorted view on yourself, but how can the view be anything else but wrong, hearing the same old song. You put a lock on yourself, and try to throw the key so far away, from all the demons and the grown ups, putting you in fucking cuffs. "Never Negotiate" The reasons are complex, still a major factor is to blame. Thankfully it won’t last forever, not as long as we carry this flame. The executive arms of murder have gained too much fame and the fame is just what's going to bring them to shame and make them lose the game. Despite your hostile tactics, we never negotiate. Despite this sense of injustice and guilt, we never negotiate. Every day and night , we keep on going straight, and never negotiate. Listen to my heartrate when we twist the debate. It’s a part of our fate. And when all the people know, you will go under. We are sending you down below, and you will just wonder. Why we are striking down like thunder, not a place for you to go. Not a place for you to go. Worldwide connection made up a reason for bombs in the Middle East. It’s a shameful and genius act to say the least. Politicians lobbying their cause, the creation of new laws. Tossing innocent children into the jaws. It’s cause for another round of applause. [свернуть]  Добавлено через 14 минут что я могу сказать? альбом просто шикарнейший, так все душевно, тексты по прежнему толковые, в подаче немного уплотнились и стали напористее и в тоже время мелодичные до бесиков. радует разбавление привычных для группы скоростных песен спокойными, медленными темами. скорей всего, нет проходных. его стоило ждать 3 года, потому что он ни на грамм не разочаровал. это просто праздник души какой-то, это по-прежнему одна из фаворных моих групп. максимум эмоций  Добавлено через 22 минуты пээээст кааам флаааадиинг бээк 
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йобана срака!!! 
как оперативно! благодарочка!
хе-хе
