MP3 THCulture - Old Sub Culture

20.00 pln

status: product available
  • description
    MP3 THCulture - Old Sub Culture

    The digital version album THCulture - Old Sub Culture in the form of MP3 files of the highest quality 320kb/s for download.

    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
    cover: Steve Cutts


    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 - voices, 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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