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lyrics

Рисуя в душе небо в тёмно-серых тонах плотной дымкой
Покрывшее спящие города, опускаясь на землю
Потоком, потоком свинцовых вод, превращая нас в
Цветы, слабые как тонкие руки, неспособные коснуться
Друг друга в попытках найти солнце на собранных из
Пепла руинах, корчась от холода:
Жизньбольрадостьмиглюбовьненавистьстрахкрик

Немая ложь строками режущими гортань, разрывая
Пустоту между нами, оставляла рубцы на теле

*Lately, I’ve become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus…

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter’s room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there…
Only she on her knees, peeking into.

Her own clasped hands.

(Amiri Baraka, "Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note").

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from S​/​T, released September 24, 2010

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Sad Records Moscow, Russia

Record label & mailorder located in Moscow, Russia

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