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lyrics

Рвать до истошной боли всё живоё.
В чёрных стенах сын лжи
танцует на голых трупах,
голодный отец могил
с плотью сшитой забвением.
Ни мёртвый и ни живой,
без голоса и слуха,
по локоть в крови,
по ту сторону времени.
Отдай же себя тому,
кем мир позабыт.
Доверь своё горло рукам тем,
чей удел - душить.
Он весь из тысяч лиц,
и миллионов судеб.
Родина лукавой пустоты.
Родина - мать удушья.
Засохшая кровь на губах
трескается от улыбки
каждой капле глупой судьбы
попавшей в руки.

____________________________

Father of the ground

Tearing up everything's alive till the heart-rending pain.
Among the black walls, the son of lies is dancing on naked corpses,
the hungry father of graves with flesh sewn by oblivion.
Neither dead nor alive, without voice and hearing, elbow-deep in blood,
on the other side of time. Give yourself to the one who has forgotten the world.
Entrust your throat to the hands of those whose destiny is to strangle.
He is all made of thousands of faces, and millions of fates.
The homeland of the crafty void. The motherland of suffocation.
Dried blood on the lips cracks with a smile to every drop of stupid fate
that has fallen into his hands.

credits

from Н​о​р​м​а​л​ь​н​ы​й ч​е​л​о​в​е​к, released October 28, 2022

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Vuara Petrozavodsk, Russia

A clot of dark and chaotic sound straight from the belly of Karelian swamps, escaping from the throat with a cry of socio-political longing.

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