Текст песни слушай шум - ладони

we are a generation filled with pain
meeting, parting, icy palms
keep the secrets of the universe
everyone is a stranger in his own way
Know us all the seas up to our knees.
silence is not fair?
or call yourself an artist?
all notes are no longer known
all nerves are worn out
managed to call himself an atheist
appropriate or not appropriate
but the cry of the soul of the surrounding systems
would rather call you a hostage

it's hard to tell kindness from venality
wanting to help everyone and everyone
thinking what we're doing right
hypocritical, forget about the rules
we slide like clockwork, we reach the edge

often a day of high hopes, becomes another day,
planning to conquer budapest,
at first everything and everyone does not care,
but slowly you find a gap
in their designs, thoughts, feelings,
you deliberately cross the path.
I take offense at your follies
you play against the rules, they are against them,
squeezing synths to a crunch.
probably these experiences, worries,
hassle, impulses, words,
that flow from the endless channel,
will never reach you.