Here are lyrics written by me (or - the one I used to be) in the very beginning of my career. These pieces were originally not supposed to be sold to anyone, but if you particularly like any of them, we can discuss it and collaborate on individual terms.
Anything goes here. Heartbreak, anger, denial and sure sociopolitical pieces, too.
Warning! Explicit content!
Dirty Opinion Whore
Close your eyes and describe what you see.
Nothing, I bet. You mind it?
Open them up, it will nothing still be.
Cheers! They've got you blinded.
Poison or wine?
Taste and decide,
Dull thoughtless swine,
Make up your mind!
Make a small gulp. Taste the drunken grape juice.
Swallow. Wait. Wait farther.
Bitterness after. So what will you choose?
Right! don't believe the others.
Never believe the surrounders,
Strangers will tell you much more.
Never believe a big crowd's man,
Dirty opinion whore.
Fuck the believers behind the aware,
Fuck the big knob's dick suckers,
Selling the will for a slut's service fare,
Fuck the big knobs -
Brainfuckers.
Poison or wine?
Poison disguised.
Damn dirty swine,
Worldwide demise.
They made a gulp of the poisoned fine... cum,
Drank it. Got paid. Elation.
Take their will for a dubious sum!
Who is the next? The nation!
Never believe the surrounders,
Strangers will tell you much more.
Never believe a big crowd's man,
Dirty opinion whore.
I Don’t Care
You detest me. The reason is clear,
And your welcome is always so cold,
But the core of my perfect idea
Has been stolen by the whole
Heartless cruel rotten world.
You all promptly discovered the sense of surviving
And at last started thinking what means to be free.
Full of envy, consumed with mixed feelings, you're striving
For quite shallow things in the same way as me.
You are trying to open my eyes
To my being the core of the vice,
And you all are as pure as spring morning skies.
I don't care what you think,
Curse me, things will still get better,
Go on, and I will sing
Of the happenings that matter.
Please believe nor my laughs nor my tears,
Like I never believe what you say.
My true muse will be straying for years
After one unlucky chain
Of the same exhausting days.
You are lively discussing your sides of the story,
Do you find it a pleasure to dig tons of muck?
You have nothing to do with my grief or my glory,
Or a lot of misfortunes of ultimate luck.
You are looking at me with eyes green,
But my eyes are still pure marine
And will stay so regardless the scenes I have seen.
I don't care what you think,
Curse me, things will still get better,
Go on, and I will sing
Of the happenings that matter.
Independent
She's sitting, sitting alone
With brandy and Winston in hands,
Devouring with her mischievous wild glance
Her already coupled-off friends.
"I'm fine" - her red eyes shout loud,
"We see. What the fuck?" - says the crowd.
She sets her lust racing around the hall,
But no one hears this hopeless call.
Independent, independent,
Don't show this minute's weakness,
Independent, independent,
Just hold on so they can witness
Your I-never-care expression
That will tell them: "Warning, danger!"
It will make the right impression
On perverted dirty strangers.
She's sitting, sitting alone,
Her ego is squeezed by four walls.
She's waving goodbye to her friends at the door -
They're leaving this brothel-like hall.
Her anger and lust are still racing,
The cold of the night is erasing
All features of lies from her beautiful face -
She's played a wrong part in a somewhat wrong place.
Independent, independent,
Don't show this minute's weakness,
Independent, independent,
Just hold on so they can witness
Your I-never-care expression
That will tell them: "Warning, danger!"
It will make the right impression
On perverted dirty strangers.
Life Story
She's out in the rain, on the verge of despair.
The smoke is twirling in fresh autumn air,
Ten cigarettes stand for three-four minutes each.
She's waiting for him - he is out of reach.
At last he shows up: "Hey, I'm sorry I'm late",
She sighs with relief. What a wonderful date!
He looks like a tramp, and she looks like a whore.
A flawless match. They accept and adore
The real each other with no pretending.
But if they could simply imagine the ending!
Some casual sex, brandy, vodka and weed -
The days of the youth. They are perfect with it.
The twenties will bring unforgettable nights,
Mash notes and roses. She'll be mesmerized
Unless one damned ring is the end of the end -
Routine will ruin their castles of sand.
Today she is only the pride of his pride,
A bit of fluff. Sex? Well, they two never mind.
But they are the victims you can't really blame -
Tomorrow this story will have a new name.
They'll have their freedom eroded by oaths
Of love, so pristine. I'm sick of them both!
It's time to grow up if it's not way too late -
The concept of love stands for fear and fate.
Love is alcohol multiplied by their tears,
The number of both will increase in some years.
Some casual sex, brandy, vodka and weed -
The days of the youth. They are perfect with it.
The twenties will bring unforgettable nights,
Mash notes and roses. She'll be mesmerized
Unless one damned ring is the end of the end
Routine will ruin their castles of sand.
Ten years have passed, she is still in despair.
She lies in their bed, breathing close heavy air.
Ten cigarettes stand for three-four minutes each.
She's waiting for him - he is out of reach.
He shows up drunk in his torn baggy clothes,
She leers at him. What a night for them both!
She looks like an ugly and worn-out whore.
They're no more able to love and adore
The real each other with no pretending.
But they had a way to escape from this ending.
Get Over It
I hate you, guys, I wish you pain.
It never causes any strain.
I can't care less for all this shit
You say to me. Get over it.
Yes, spirit is my perfect friend -
It's always there by my demand.
Yes, I detest the whole mankind.
Yes, I deny, and I'm denied.
I'm misanthropic, deviant,
Irrational, irrelevant,
Whatever else I have been called.
I've said this. Now fuck off - you all.
I curse the world, I curse my fate,
I first destroy and then create.
You laugh at me - I turn and spit,
You try to mess with me - I quit.
You draw hearts - I draw spades,
You say "enough" - I say "too late".
You can't accept your worst defeat -
My victory. Get over it.
I'm misanthropic, deviant,
Irrational, irrelevant,
Whatever else I have been called.
I've said this. Now fuck off - you all.
You draw hearts - I draw spades,
I curse the world, I curse my fate.
Yes, I detest the whole mankind.
Yes, I deny, and I'm denied.
Get over it!
Gloomy Crowd's Man
He lived his days by someone's rules,
He broke his hands, became the tool.
He played the game with life at stake.
He won. He made a great mistake.
Life is action,
Don't surrender
When the heartlessness decides
Who are fighters and defenders
On the different inner side.
Some beer in front of his laptop.
A dirty room. A part-time job
To make his living for one ass.
You think you'd ever mourn his death?
Life is action,
Don't surrender
When the heartlessness decides
Who are fighters and defenders
On the different inner side.
And who's the next? It may be you,
A gloomy "yes, Sir" crowd's man!
My song is harsh, but hey, it's true.
You can't agree - the conscious can.
Regret, Regret
We used to be like Jack and Rose.
"You jump - I jump" - a stupid oath.
But they all failed to figure out
Who had survived and who had drowned.
They all have taken me awry,
They call me she-who-loves-that-guy.
They wait to see how far I'll get,
And I just quit with no regret.
You fall - I fall -
It sounds weird.
I couldn't care less, my dear!
I'll watch you fall and be so glad.
You failed me. Now regret, regret.
Alas, romance is not my style.
I'm somewhat wild, I'm volatile.
I was that girl, but now I've grown
To know I'm better on my own.
You used me, then you found the change,
Like you use condoms. I'll avenge,
Or fate will do, my lovely guy,
And with a scorn I'll pass you by.
You fall - I fall -
It sounds weird.
I couldn't care less, my dear!
I'll watch you fall and be so glad.
You failed me. Now regret, regret.
You used me, then you found the change,
And though I'm wild and volatile,
I can't forget, I will avenge.
Alas, romance is not my style.
You fall - I fall -
It sounds weird.
I couldn't care less, my dear!
I'll watch you fall and be so glad.
You failed me. Now regret, regret.
Riot of Word
Guys, all you are good at is scolding a cop,
Yes, some of your statements have meaning, indeed,
But words with no reasons won't get you on top,
You're giving your fellows a casual feed
Of rhyming curse words that you cast out loud,
So over-inflated and false-emphasized,
You try to be brusque, and you merge with the crowd,
Your ego is stained by the fact you are biased.
You crave for a rebel, so get it all planned,
Clean out the dump in your mind for a start!
Use word as a weapon when perfectly penned,
Withdrawn from the ultimate depth of your heart.
Guys, all you are good at is scolding a cop,
As they are subdued by the careless chief
For dubious joys of a desperate job.
They've sold their true and most cherished beliefs.
But what you are doing is always the same,
You're telling them what they are waiting to hear.
You know they quote you, you choke on your fame,
You don't even care if it sounds sincere.
You crave for a rebel, so get it all planned,
Clean out the dump in your mind for a start!
Use word as a weapon when perfectly penned,
Withdrawn from the ultimate depth of your heart.
The crowds keep rocking, applauding, exclaiming,
Quoting your words, lacking ones of their own,
If being a poet is what you are claiming,
Declare what really needs to be known!
You crave for a rebel, so get it all planned,
Clean out the dump in your mind for a start!
Use word as a weapon when perfectly penned,
Withdrawn from the ultimate depth of your heart.
Romance Is Dead
A glass of cheap vodka tastes just like depression -
It hurts to be sober tonight.
The mirror reflects such a hideous expression
That I promptly turn off the light.
Some porno, then casual sex with my hand...
Oh damn! This is something I shouldn't have said.
Why don't you believe that I need no boyfriend -
No problems, no worries, no tears, no regret?
Romance is dead,
And so am I,
I can't forget
My perfect lie.
I still recall
The times we had.
Oh well, that's all.
Romance is dead.
I can't fall asleep, so I get on the net,
Where I claim to be an online super-whore,
I find guys like you just to make them all fret,
My tease makes them want me, but they can't get more
Than flirt for some minutes, some sexual tension
And then disconnect. Their muse disappears.
I've had a good time with these cruel intentions -
Enough for today. See you later, my dear.
Romance is dead,
And so am I,
I can't forget
My perfect lie.
I still recall
The times we had.
Oh well, that's all.
Romance is dead.
Romance is dead!
You say it is stupid, it doesn't make sense,
But you are the first to have buried romance.
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