Nov. 19th, 2021

Истина всегда вырисовывается
Или хотя бы мираж
Иллюзия, созданная, чтобы задохнуться
И фасад, с которым вы слишком хорошо знакомы

I can hear those Russians from a hole in my new wall
They're living in my vents, and I'm not lying to you at all
And no, I'm not paranoid but I know
I sure do sound insane, and here we go again

We never know what the day may bring
The moment we decide to leave the sheets
And venture out, out
Into the world, the crazy world

Tonight I tied a microphone around a wooden bedpost
And lowered it down into the wall
So that I could fall asleep

I wish it was the worst of my troubles
Even though it was the worst of my sins
But I've carried it all so well
That you couldn't even tell I was running in my mind
To leave it all behind

But I can hear a payphone call my name
Ringing out its endless cries like a baby born brand new
But even you aren't free from the curses that we've laid upon ourselves

And wallowed