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Redmug (Rock Opera)

by turahtan

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Fathers 05:13
Please do remember my son On this hard job what we do Practice to handle the gun Is not the main skill for you. Fingers on triggers are hard, Barrels are ready to melt, Enemies brains and black blood, Wet leather aprons and belts. Future belongs just to you my son, Follow my last words, please. Good education will help to become A servant of the secret police. Now when my further is dead, His sleep is peaceful at least. I understood what he said And I respect his bequeath. I know the sense of my life, Happy and easy to be, Graceful as shape of a knife A career in KGB. Nobody knows what I really do, All are afraid on to guess. I know them all. Will they know me too? They have to know less than less. Now I'm a dad by myself, My son is adult enough. Handling of guns very well Is not a nowadays craft. His university skill Makes him to feel as a prince, I allow him everything Even an American jeans! Only the deal, he was born With an abnormal red face, I'm not afraid this at all, I will give him the right place.
A Stranger 04:19
A stranger I am, a stranger I am... You told me I should to loud My country the best what we know You told me I would be proud Of my grandfather a hero. Tell my why when I walk To my home and I'm beside All the street roving dogs Run out to other side? A stranger I am, a stranger I am... You told me the family clan, The dynasty of KGB, Is gallant to hold and run As anyone dreams to be. Can you explain me why On mirrors at any place I ever will be horrified To see my red terrible face? A stranger I am, a stranger I am... You told me that all your friends, Each one the best country child Wears tunics with medals and Shines on bright career light. With nothing to sell or buy Just honor is what to stick. But don't try to read me why I see them and I feel seek.
Eva 05:07
Just your name I hear Eva, Eva. I can say you are my Queen. You was born for freedom even here. Beautified this city in. I will ask to help me my imagination On sad lonely days to be. Maybe you can here my silent, quiet question Do you still remember me? And I have in mind how you without crying Tell me again and clear straight right, You and your parents are leaving to Israel No one will delay your flight. Your Jerusalem is near, near. You will never feel my plea. Do you like the real city Eva That I can not even see? Yes, I head about the magic town Coming out from the sky. Only I can cry on my way down, Don't allow the dream to die. What I have to do to imagine really New Jerusalem far away in my mind, And I understand it will be disappearing When I'll pass away from the light.
Walking down to the street You are happy to see it On a crowd of nice drunk people All of them you glad to meet. It looks like a yard for cattle The central city beer bar, Proud freedom, field of battle, Empty heads without the czar. You are happy you are free only on this reason Everyone wants to forget nightmares of the prison. If you are just abstinent this is nothing clear And "In Vino Veritas" is the true word here. Fame the kingdom of the slaves, Who is stupid to be brave? Spend your life and what to say A workhorse of nowadays? Every day and every night Propaganda running lie! You feel right only away, When you're of the light! This is real feel yourself not just as an outcast Only here your red skin is not on the contrast. Look around on scarlet faces people of good luck And be happy on the colour of the native flag. Drink, drank, drunk... I hate this country...
Can't you see these young man's eyes? Depthless black behind the ice, Fear of being and fear of death, Running wheels, the night express, Snowbound fields and Christmas sky, Blind sweet faith on 'never die', Morning coffee, evening tea, Senselessness infinity... Can't you see an old man ghost Who leans on the dirty post Passing trough his final hours In the muddy beer house. Do you like your wrinkly face? No time and no space, Falling down by the door On an empty corridor...
When the city is coming from the sky To take out all who will never die. If you are an angel taking your chance maybe, But forget this blather and don't cry. Stop your empty dream and shut up forever You are really buried under bulks of dust. Just remember now that your poor lot is "never" What you can get out is just nothing to trust. People as you are all around, We have stuck down on the ground. We can creep so well on no way to fly out No place for us upper in the sky. What you have to do is to imagine really New Jerusalem is far away in your mind, And you understand it will be disappearing When you'll pass away from the light.
We are fervent patriots Leaders of the cattle, Officers of idiots Powder of the battle. Are you proud? You are wrong Even as a reach men. You will get your place among Pest bugs of entrenchment. We are here all around, Force your stupid brain! Staying firmly on the ground We was born to reign! Keep in mind the farewell Pounds, francs or bucks. We will keep your freedom well On the leash of tax.
Nightmares of my last diving, Trapped on by a fishing net, Overdue by timing, Trembling I can't forget. Here last choice is narrow, My waterproofing watch Shows me by turning arrows Troubles I have to catch. Oxygen pressure is suddenly, suddenly going down. I understand what will happen, happen here and now. Maybe I gonna die, Maybe I gonna die... Water turns to the sky Water turns to the sky... The Cross in the Fire, Death on the Night! Now I can see I'm walking Along an old cemetery wall, The sullen and dark gate-watcher Is pushing to pass me on. I see the soil, unknown land Similar graves, as clones, I read the names of my friends On old and too dark grave stones. Now I can see they are walking dressing on grey hood clothing And they pretend they don't know me and my name for them is nothing. Then I see the biggest grave, Then I see the biggest grave. This is for me they say, This is for me they say. The Cross in the Fire, Death on the Night! I crawl the stairway down Hiding my leaving wreck. Deeply on underground Red lights on lowest black. Glow of the boiling magma, Noise of titanic buzz... No, I will run out, I wanna see green grass! What is, that I've forgot here, I must be at home for lunch! Hey you, gate-watcher, don't stop me, I certainly give you my punch! I'm falling to the dark, I'm falling to the dark. Nothing around me now, Nothing around me now. The Cross in the Fire, Death on the Night!
In the Kingdom of the Cry People follow rules of lie, Even mirrors in this country Are deceivers for a while. To survive poltroons and slaves Need a sachem with red face To create denunciations Straight ahead on deadly race. Your genetic code is right If you are a headsman's child, As the kids of murdered millions Was not born to see the light.
The Ash 04:53
The dastard dux, a demented nation, The ship gives a lurch, the damaged side, The unruled train madly passed the stations To the dead end through the gloom of the night. Pure time when the black is white, Crystal view when the true is lie, On this context all the fools are right, Armies commit the last march to die. Overturning the brains, Overturning the brains. In symbiosis religion, the power Use propaganda to wash human brains, Church takes a list as the Pisa Tower, Suddenly starting its turning rates. The cathedral lines on the round Doomed to die us an uprooted tree, The sky is moving below the ground Taking the way of the half circle degree. Overturning a church, Overturning the church. True born kings crucified astern, Red Mug is running the crime reign greed, Preparations to crown the bastard, Is the last nail for the coffin lid. When the sky will be burnt by fire, Sin and malfeasance, net and gross, Never tell me "you are" and "I am", Hot wind takes out the ash of the cross. Ash in crashing, Ash in crashing, Ash in crashing, Ash...
My way for escape is too narrow and low, But this bloody land ever pushes me go. Footprints on the sand are for short time to be And waves come to clean 'em, the sea will take me. I can't use a boat I'll be quick and smart Invisible now even for the coastguard, I am not afraid of strong wind and cold stream I will celebrate my sweet freedom to swim. Without the choice to be free or to die By whispering voice of the sheltering sky That never will tell who I really am... Oh my mystic city, my Jerusalem!


Dedicated to my friends of the Soviet Era...


released November 4, 2014


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Shabby Jeans Records.

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