Weed'n'Brews

Shit painted gold

Blinds don't go to the cinema

Don't Read This Book If You're Stupid

And1 Mixtape Tour, Mighty Boosh, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Lucky Louie

Никогда
Ничего не вернуть,
Как на солнце не вытравить пятна,
И, в обратный отправившись путь,
Все равно не вернешься обратно.
Эта истина очень проста,
И она, точно смерть, непреложна.
Можно в те же вернуться места,
Но вернуться назад невозможно...
Не повеять вчерашним ветрам,
Не светиться вчерашней улыбке...
Ах, как яростно хочется нам где-то в прошлом исправить ошибки!
Но Земля не закрутится вспять,
Хоть упрись в нее лбом, хоть плечами-
невозможно природе понять человеческой этой печали.

Conceited, lurking, tormenting, under the cursed shadows and flow
Creaking, twisting, haunting, whenever it may go
Conspiring, plaguing, besetting, deep under eerie sea
Trapping, captivating, bewitching, the have no chance to flee
The undercurrent's intesity rises, you can't evade this nightmare be valiant, be steadfast be ready, try another sip if you dare...

Быть или не быть, вот в чем вопрос.
Достойно ли смиряться под ударами судьбы,
Иль надо оказать сопротивленье?
И в смертной схватке с целым морем бед
Покончить с ними? Умереть. Забыться...

And everytime I look within I recognize the darkness
Familiar to the image of the artist
Staring at the bathroom mirror in a strangers apartment

Can you feel it, Mr. Anderson, closing in on you? Well, I can. I really should thank you for it, after all, it was your life that taught me the purpose of all life. The purpose of life is to end.

Why, Mr. Anderson, why? Why, why do you do it? Why, why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something, for more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is, do you even know? Is it freedom or truth, perhaps peace — could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson, vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself. Although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson, you must know it by now! You can't win, it's pointless to keep fighting! Why, Mr. Anderson, why, why do you persist?