Pár slov k našemu počinu
Jsme skupina lidí s rozličnými psychickými vadami, jimiž se navzájem doplňujeme a tvoříme
komplexní hudební těleso.

Texty
Sanatorium
(obraz psychiatrie)
the place where you can hide
to rid me of my ghosts
drawn from the world outside
among the things that i fear most
so when i put myself between these grey walls
could i be even held here against my choice
maybe every treatment will simply fail
if the environment is cold and pale
maybe it's just for comfort of hipocrits so they
don't have to put their eyes on „that bastard that is blocking their way"
we'll teach you what is true
oh do you have the right
we'll soon get over you
now when i can't fight
they bind you there at first, make your body weak
then satisfy their thirst, mind is what they seek
no screams of anguish leak from this place
just let me go
those who don't fit dig own lifetime graves
blessed by the law
the drugs are slowly overwhelming
my resistance and will to live are fading
cold showers quench all doubts
sedatives ruin your guts
confinement in small cell
straight jacket tightened well
the sanatorium
you can't see the patient if it's the doctor's wish
the sanatorium
they won't help you find the path when you are lost in your head
the sanatorium
when they're finished there are no paths after all
in sanatorium
behind blooming gardens where human lives wither away
Mother
(o manipulovatelnosti lidí)
overlooked squabby man sweating at workplace
all his decisions commanded by others
he only dreams of a woman‘s embrace
shackles of living with despotic mother
and so he asks
how long will it last
seeking salvation
god‘s shepherds preach their untouchable truth
superiority complex offer
twisting the meaning of virtue they loot
on hatred even among each other
didn‘t they find
what‘s hiding inside
the power of preaching?
that every word, their dedication
will unleash forth arcane vibration
affecting deeds, intruding the soul
that's how the seeds of their malice begin to grow
intents are unfulfilled, muted inside
oppressive red anger burns in his eyes
nobody cares for the turn of the tide
when the cocooned evil wakes up to rise
consumed by night
he passes the blight
on to relieve his pain
innocent child, abomination
who has the right to dismiss creation?
the blood on his hands still gives him no insight
what drove this offense or what is wrong and what is right
hunger for violence is not satisfied
Losing Time
(o promrdávání času)
just another morning and you're feeling like a piece of shit
slave to your indolence you are losing your time bit by bit
you hate to sense the stuff that is blurring your head
so you take it again to relax and forget
ref:
do you want to wait
do you have the time
have you already resigned
do you want to waste
what you have on mind
abandon your own design
once you were a child everything seemed to be just in your hands
now it's clear that you are not the one on whom your luck depends
you wonder why you should do things the others‘ way
not caring for trouble you reject the game they play
ref
they want to lay up all the treasure
and I say Choke!
they'll never feel the freeing pleasure
of being broke
entrusting our lives to the hands of others
makes us then when we are all alone vulnerable
but what if we one day wake up
and find out there is a war
we all will be pretty fucked up
then who of us will have more
for living easy we forsake our freedom
entangle ourselves with those pointless rules
decline our nature for some narrow reasons
full of selfishness often act like fools
just another morning and you're feeling like a piece of crap
rambling in a circle you are reaching the end step by step
it seems to be much less rugged when someone said
there was a guy who had ideas he never shared
ref