THCulture - Old Sub Culture

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THCulture - Old Sub Culture-Old Sub Culture


recorded & mixed at: 2014-2015 Canal666 Studio & BigBit Studio & SPAART Studio

recorded by: Yogi & Jacek Młodochowski

mixed by: Yogi

mastered by: Andrzej Karp & Michał Kosewski

produced by: Yogi

published by: Canal666


Yogi - voices, guitars, bass, rhythm, virtual instruments, loops, words

Żurek - drums, percussions, virtual instruments


Sezon - voices, words

Agata Rybarczyk - voices

Krzysztof Hypnar - solo bass

Greg Hura - words

Wiktor Żwikiewicz - words



Two sisters

Manipulation and Propaganda

Reap their harvest

You watch too little TV

You have to act not think

Soon we’ll chip you like dogs

And even after hours

We’ll know what you’re doing



Suitable for abuse

Harmless fools

Behind barbed wire

In an enclosed reserve


Like you deserve

And if you are naughty

We’ll have your mammon switched off

You’ll sell nothing

You’ll buy nothing


Our enclave will

Collapse under the burden of folly

We’ve bound our existence with

Unfulfilled by the peacefulness of lasting

Neurotransmitters smite systems

Both with the debauched self and possession

Mother-clinic closed the gateway shut

Nobody’s knocking for a dose of hope though

Feedback cleanses the foreground

The army does not withdraw surrounded by death

No weapon can fight exhaustion

The social illness of pointless existence

Intravenous shots

And visions to be licked


head in the clouds

and hallucinogens

how about the body?

The body is stuck in the system’s wheelchair

And you Selene’s airy lover

Don’t search here are no those who show willing

Too late you’ve hidden behind the armour

You’ll burn like the rest of moon children

They in their cover you out of lack of hope


It is my application

It’s my motion to obtain

The right to madness

The allowable consistency

Of anger according to norm



determined for this face of nature

where fury ruins and creates

the breakthrough

enclosed within the limits

for a moment of madness


with a derisive smile

I caress the walls of the city

And smuggle in the minds

Of fellow inmates

When I lay the table

To celebrate this hell

Nobody joins

But everyone creates it

I bare my teeth

Bite into the arteries

Forcing fear

On bended knees before pictures

Figures of psychopaths

Transport lunatics

Into a sublingual vision

Not to be licked

Chosen cynics

Create illusions

Based on the whore of hope

Masses fly lightly


Spit at each other

At you scum

Won’t even spit


According to others’ laws and rules

In an enchanted circle

According to others’ laws and rules

Of production and consumption

unaware most of what

you’re most strongly convinced of

other people’s ideas

what you should do or think

they are for you

like brain transplants

the religion of the product recommends

the commandments of fashion directives

in life-proof houses

TV sells dreams

Product identity

Of clothing subcultures

Passive absorption

Ready-made dreams

Tyranny of the clock

And the assembly line


Liturgy of the commodity


The relief of enslavement

In the ceremony of self-righteousness

Feeding your own burning stake

By means of extinguishing

in the ashes of satiety the reek

sluggishly trails

overblown ego dies out

only cry and empty laugh




serial number

to sustain chaos - a stab in the heart

for system’s health – concealment

lack of conjecture in an open rebellion

against individualism

in the clutches

in the snare

the silkenly techno logically

stroked inventor

guts himself with the cutting edge

method of ignorance

self-righteous in his


by force of inertia freely

by force of inertia freely grows quiet


unbelievably no one

parasitically proudly

changes gibberish into action

control and its lack

satisfaction and disgust


Everybody has to be somebody

Nobody is not nobody

Nobody trusts nobody

Betrayal is omnipresent

When a child is born

Don’t say: you should love

‘cause history is ruthless

And requires sacrifices

It’s survival and conquest

It counts without mercy

The dream did not come true though

And turned out to be a nightmare

Over there is a monument

Erected from dogmas

And you should be the servant

Of the omnipresent treadmill

Reborn to be given up for milling


Radical revision

Code: maltreatment by indifference

Shivers of disinformation

Overfeeding with falsity

Ultra short quantum leaps

Trampling over

Merciful concealment



The only variety

Fresh wounds torn

By the whip of self-control

Scruples about the herd

Boundlessly suppressed

In reckless reincarnation

Getting what’s given

For the price

For the price of looting

Food deprivation

Code: incurable cicatrisation


Code: devastation by satiation

The positive result of reduction

Triumphant wailing of sirens

On barren rocks around

Smooth vastness

Illusory niches

Reflexes of the bygone

In the curse of survival

Ruthlessly ransacked

The tumult of degradation

To sanctify the means

Of anxiety of detonation

Short-sightedness of calculated

Far-reaching perspective

Of disorientation

Tamely cunningly on the ladder

Of incidentally jumped enclosure fences


There is no escape from here

Get it into your heads

And all the dough is spent

To have you by the short and curlies

always the same scheme

lies and later murders

where human bloods flows

money flows with it

some day kneeling over a ditch

you won’t ask why

‘cause you’ll know well

‘cause you’ve voted


Now we bow and scrape

We don’t exaggerate

Those who thump the global table

Smile condescendingly

Great extinction

Rebirth of identity

in a devastated garden

lost not regained

where concrete cracked

they glued it with plastic

in the crater of nothingness they stuck a banner

with a sign or nobody

we live in loneliness

in abhorrent extermination

it’s how Man was born

it’s how he lies down

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