split 7" with PFA
by
Dance Or Die!!!
credits
released 01 April 2011
license
all rights reserved
feeds

feeds for ,
discography
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Apr 2011
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Mar 2011
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Mar 2010
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Oct 2009
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- Track Name: Kelts Bennem Undort!
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KELTS BENNEM UNDORT!
ha megéheznél, zabálj belőlem
ha szégyenkeznél, tűnj el örökre
ha hiányoznék, hányd ki a lelkem,
de ha visszajönnél, jusson eszedbe:
itt semmit sem hagytál,
amit érdemes lenne elpusztítani
ha selejtnek neveltél, ne hagyj remélni
ha ellenség kéne, kopogtass, kérlek
ha uralni akarsz, taníts meg félni,
mert ha levegőhöz jutok, neked úgyis véged
translation:
MAKE ME DISGUSTED!
should you get hungry, gorge upon me
should you feel ashamed, disappear forever
should you miss me, puke my soul out
but in case you should ever come back, remind yourself:
you haven't left anything behind
that'd be worth being destroyed
once you brought me up to be a reject, don't let me hope
should you need an enemy, feel free to knock on my door
if you want to rule me, teach me how to dread
'cause if i get some air, for you that'll be the end
- Track Name: Modernisation My Ass, Progress My Hole
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unconcerned 'bout redemption
while floating overground
too busy with balancing
while dancing on a dot
it's just wasted time
to promise me
it ain't my home
the 21st century
- Track Name: Music Industry
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scientists of music, get yourselves killed
this song'll need 30 sec to execute
sluts of mainstream, get yourselves drilled
i want banned trends and mtv rock bands,
censored nonsense
reputed producers, starve to death
teenager idols, fall into decay
hope your hits'll be downloadable
before the release day
- Track Name: We Counterweight
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our generation's failed
but our voice is stonger
scream against the world
to save it from ourselves
fuck youth! fuck you!
i will yell with all my lungs
until i choke on satisfaction
i will yell with all my heart
until the beat stops
- Track Name: It's All About Doing It In A Smart Way
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open-mouthed,
a revolutionary sleeps on the roadsides
in his lungs; hundreds of trapped war cries
on his forehead;
a gaping hole breathes gunpowder smell
and lets revolutionary thoughts vanish in the air
between his eyes;
a brownish red, clotted runnel states:
we lost the war when we were born into these decades
in empty streets,
we're singing a monody and write it on the walls:
even our denial's worth more than a bunch of dead heroes