1. |
War Paint
04:54
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Hundred strips across the face
Billions trillions on the back
Squeezing out tomato paste
Lisa steps outside the rack
Pity for her enemy
Doomed and vanquished in advance
Final stroke of gory red
Underlines the martial stance
Violet dots around the eyes
Fidgety midgety on his knees
Peter creeps out from inside
Wooden horse accompanies
All is lost now for his foes
Raise their stronghold to the ground
Watch with pleasure as it goes
Up in smoke without a sound
All over now
Twenty years are now gone
Terrapin hairpin on her head
Lisa hands her better one
To a tall and freckled lad
Peter is his given name
In his loft amongst the blues
One can find the very same
Wooden horse with rusty shoes
Few hours later coming home
Levity brevity on the wing
Entering the pleasure dome
Laughing at the simple things
Traded ketchup for a stick
Swapped the horsey with a bike
At the warpath still they meet
Ever eager for a fight
Forever now
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2. |
Up Against the Odds
04:30
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No approval from the pretties
Dusting off the old-time treaties
Everybody goes astray
But I’m inside I’m on my way
No attention to the morsels
My behavior is remorseful
Everybody runs amok
But I’m a new kid on the block
Still the gulls are singing couplets
No habitual quadruplet
Everybody keeps aloof
But I’m in flames I need the proof
Would the sadness be the asset
Need an extra strength to pass it
Everybody means the same
But I’m alone I play my game
Try to count the maledictions
Heroes of the science fiction
Everybody throws a stone
But I’m alright I’m on my own
Since the messenger has left us
Does it pay to play the jester’s
Everybody’s being suave
But I’m in doldrums I’m in love
Kick aside the hopeless people
The befuddled and the crippled
Everybody strikes again
But I don’t fall I’m still a man
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3. |
Voices from the Past
03:58
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4. |
A Feeling of Spring
06:54
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Tune sweet tune curves in the mist
As we walk down the alley at night
Breeze melts down on your cheeks
How could it be that we have missed the occasion
How could it happen that the lips were pursed
How could it be that we have missed it completely
How could it happen when the spring has come
Black turns grey, stills of life
Drops fall down as we open the door
Spring plays red on your face
How could it be that we have missed the occasion
How could it happen that the lips were pursed
How could be that we have missed it completely
How could it happen when the spring has come
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5. |
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Not your usual this and that
Scary rabbit from the hat
Home-brew bubbles in a jug
Give the uphill work a hug
Not your usual this and that
What a garish vinaigrette
Faux Picasso, faux Matisse
Give the uphill work a kiss
Not your usual this and that
There are tears and blood and sweat
Aunt Samantha, uncle Sam
Give the uphill work a damn
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6. |
Victims of Jet Lag
06:26
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No salvation from the longing
No excuses to be made
Barely waken for a new day
He has stepped on the crusade
No assurance for the future
No redemption from the yearn
Deadly sleepless in the airport
She is waiting for her turn
Thousand miles out, fingers crossing
Could she put him out of mind?
First for exit hair hangs loosely
Rushing outside colorblind
He stands perplexed, bell’s still ringing
Might have left for a better life
Always late for a couple of hours
That’s his long-time precious style
Day sloping to the end
Everybody’s home making their beds
Deep inside the bar
Drawing on a drink
Failed it at the core
He’s the one to blame
Night falling down the streets
Everybody’s done doing daily deeds
On a desert bridge
Grinding out a stub
Failed it at the heart
She’s the one to blame
Planes flying high above
Each one with its path
Each one on its strip
His – an empty tub
Hers – a smoked out pack
Thousand miles away
Victims of jet lag
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7. |
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Passionate about the sound
Not enough mid-frequencies are to be found
Passionate about the song
Chords too obvious, coda sounds overlong
Passionate about the words
Rubs his head and goes like what’s that I’ve just heard
Gotta have the allergy
To this ruthless waste of human energy
Why can’t Max just relax?
Passionate about the school
Sponsored the construction of the swimming pool
Passionate about the war
Says we’ve learnt the whole curriculum of gore
Passionate about the food
Swears the GM sausages will do no good
Gotta have the odium
To this kind of sappy lifelong tedium
Why can’t Max just relax?
Passionate about the club
Dreams of lifting high the football Super Cup
Passionate about the girls
Picks a date depending on the depth of curls
Passionate about his creed
Would not sacrifice his principles indeed
Gotta have the reverence
For this lack of elemental relevance
Why can’t Max just relax?
Passionate about his wife
Prone to use his fists in the internal strife
Passionate about his kids
Like a jealous sower following his seeds
Passionate about his death
Got his schedule done until the final breath
Gotta have a charity
For this flabbergasting insularity
Why can’t Max just relax?
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8. |
Fun (As in Funeral)
04:05
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9. |
Falderal Express
01:52
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10. |
Incomprehensible
08:17
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Lay down your gun
Seems that war is over
And the hapless rover
Can have some rest
Put on your coat
‘Cause the air is chilly
It’s October, Billy
Dripping on the ground
Make no mistake
‘Twas a painful lesson
And either Smith or Wesson
Couldn’t sort it out
Why would you want
To carry on a mission
The hopeless expedition
Into the shade
Whispering a prayer, uttering a moan
Wrong was the key or maybe not
Still no one took up my melody
Trying to lean on someone’s advice
Hundreds of tongues invade my ears
All of them incomprehensible
Down at the heels
We have known the hardships
Like the first-built starships
Treading in space
Do you recall
The delight of battle
Vaporizing kettle
Warming cracked hands
Now that you’re gone
I’m feeling so bewildered
No longer able to heal it
No longer fit
Where was my heart
Is now an empty socket
A largely pointless pocket
For dribs and drabs
Whispering a prayer, uttering a moan
Wrong was the key or maybe not
Still no one took up my melody
Trying to lean on someone’s advice
Hundreds of tongues invade my ears
All of them incomprehensible
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Uphill Work город Москва, Russian Federation
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