http://andallicansayis.com
my body's begging me to cease whatever caused this condition.
my own mind refuses to acknowledge that you're gone, it still tries to bring you back though i do not want it, but i, sure as hell, need it so bad. so it kindly offers all these memories of past.
my heart can't let you go, it's something it won't learn to do. it won't listen, it does what it wants to. i cannot control it, neither predict its next move, but, dear, i'm sure it loved you more than anything it could love.
anything...
i'm torturing myself with all the letters that you wrote. when i read them, you seem closer. i know them all by heart and my mind won't let me forget as my body shook and shivered at the way you hurt with words.

chapter I: denial. §O2. head north for less information (ft. primus man of starchitect)

http://andallicansayis.com
knocking at the door with a "past" sign, it seems locked. i diligently tried to find a way to get inside, but the lock's safely secured by my stupid mistakes and shortcomings. and even the key, that's been fused of my most sincere regrets, can't ensure my entrance. let me in... i look through the keyhole and see a pathetic naive kid, sitting at the table; he's writing an essay on a piece of paper, and its title reads "my goals and dreams". he doesn't have a slightest idea about the consequences of such actions. i scream and i shout, trying to warn him of his senses, to bring him back to reason, to prevent him from becoming me. he hears nothing, there's a whole year between us and, as far as i'm concerned, there is no cry of such force that could overcome this distance.
i'm staring at the door with the "future" inscription. this one is wide open. it's way too bright and unexplored; it's so unclear; it's so cold, and it's so uncomfortable that i don't want to set my foot in. darling, if you divided my life to the time before i met you and after you left me, then i won't move an inch.
so i sit here in the hall, scratching "present" on the floor. i'm examining the corridor: a light's shining through the window, and on the windowsill there's a pot, and a daisy's thirsting in that pot. i reach out for my flask to water the flower, but my heart has frozen the water.
perplexed, i utter silent words, my breath is but a cloud of warm air evaporating. and that's where it hit me that ice can't become steam, it should stay water for a while.

chapter III: bargaining. §O5. the most red song in the world

http://andallicansayis.com
do my actions contradict my words? 
was there a choice? 
am i screaming so loud that you cannot make sense out of this noise?
did i ever give a fuck at all? 
was it my choice? 
have i lost the ability to learn from my mistakes? 
did i find what i've been searching for? 
was there a choice? 
am i trying too hard to win approval from these people i don't know? 
do i seem too mean to everyone i meet? 
when will i finally let it go? 
can i be less arrogant and proud? 
do i mean what i say or am i talking shit? 
was it all just an act? 
how long can i pretend? 
who the fuck am i? 
where do i fucking belong? 
is my life a disease? 
please keep your mouth shut, i know you've got the answers to those questions. i’ll choke you to death because you know how much i hate perfection. you suck!

chapter II: anger. §O4. choke anna (ft. pazeazea)

http://andallicansayis.com
you were the best among so many loves, 
i could've told you 'bout my past. 
your flower bloomed beside my window pane. 
you were the best. 
you were the best. 
please be happy. 
you were there for me so many times, 
i wish that i could pay you back. 
as flowers need their water, i need care. 
you were there. 
you were there. 
hope you're smiling. 
you were right about so many things, 
i can't admit it to your face. 
your flower wilted in my stuffy room. 
you were right. 
you were right. 
i am not afraid to live without you.

chapter V: acceptance. §O9. l'attrape-coeurs (ft. dima tampey)

http://andallicansayis.com
26: no family, no dear soulmates, no great career, no achievements, no cause for joy, no favorite hobby, no dreams. worthless. good for nothing. only a heartbeat, only breathing, only existence. yet lots of errors and countless faults, plenty of blunders and even more flaws. one single desire: for things to get back like they were, but no, it will happen not. just pain that neither kills nor makes one stronger. just time that does not ever fucking heal. just glasses that are always half full.. of shit. just hopes that won't die last cause that would be i. a great deal of started yet unfinished business. dozens of giving-ups. scores of failures. unsuccessful attempts: to change myself; even more insane: to change the past. a thirst for the unattainable; a reluctance for the acquired. making the same mistakes; running around in circles. belated realization. points of no return. burnt bridges. wrong decisions. incompetence to learn. sleepless nights. cold sheets. thick strings. low tunings. screamed vocals. sad songs. 27: ...

i would if i could but i can't so i won't (ft. cauze)

http://andallicansayis.com
loves, failures, beliefs, dreams, regrets, sorrows, fears, memories, worries, doubts, aches, wounds, graces, friends, infidelities, blessings, rights, wrongs, disputes, truths, lies, treasures, promises, hopes, goals, victories, losses, values, achievements, malices will one day rot to shit.

and this too shall pass

official video: http://youtu.be/r-PqCHZvdyY
public page: https://www.facebook.com/and.all.i.can.say.is
lyrics: http://genius.com/andallicansayis-182bpm-lyrics

182bpm

мы никогда ничего не добьёмся; никем не станем; не получим то, что хотели. ответа я ждал извне; верил - там рай, а не мрак. дай же мне знак - я ж дал тебе время. смерть с косой и ты: силуэт схожий. идти силы нет больше, блядь, постой! в пизду эту боль! как вернуться домой? задыхаюсь порой. страшно. дезинтегрироваться бы. нет ключа от двери - провал. гробы засыпают землёй. счастья нет... мы не сможем быть вместе. счастья нет... стелим ложи для мести. мы родились в одиночестве; мы живём в одиночестве; мы умрём в одиночестве. но я ещё пока что не умер, в этой жизни я не один, играет музыка, пули летают - много радостных картин. держись, мы будем вместе идти к победе, несмотря ни на что. не ссы - прорвёмся. я вижу тех, кто рядом со мной, они томятся жаждой. мы ищем путь в этой жизни земной и будем мы отважны.

не ссы, прорвёмся! (ft. сад мир)

https://www.facebook.com/and.all.i.can.say.is
https://youtu.be/v_Yn8WDtR7g
the unreal is more powerful than the real 'cause nothing's as perfect as you can imagine it. 'cause it's only intangibles, ideas, concepts, beliefs that last. stone crumbles, and wood rots, and people.. well, they die; one day they'll become dust. but things as fragile as a thought, a dream, a legend, can go on. here, in your mind, you have complete privacy each time you close your eyes.

what if reality is nothing but some disease? there's nothing special in this world. no magic. just physics. the only thing i know is everything you love will die. the real truth's nobody wants reality, here's why:

in this world, our generation pumping gas, waiting tables – slaves with white collars. advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. we're the middle children of history. no purpose or place. we have no great war. no great depression. our great war's a spiritual war. our great depression is our lives. we've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars, but we won't.

we have no scar to show for happiness. we learn so little from peace. we're remembered more for what we destroy than what we create. here, desires don't coincide with possibilities, the good isn't rewarded and the evil isn't punished. here, we age, our eyesight's getting worse, our joints crack, our memories fade, our hair turns gray. however, i won't let you disappear. no, i won't give up just like that. no, you can't be so easily erased. don't open your eyes.. and i won't open mine.

chapter I: denial. §O1. your eyes are closed (ft. zontique)

досчитай до тридцати и посмотри, кем ты стал: 
недалеко вон, некогда твой, там пьедестал.
вруби спикер, слышишь крики? в mp3-шке - металл.
а ты мёртвенький в говно и растерял все скиллзы,
навык убил, ведь славы - увы -
ни один гневный фитчер тебе не принёс.
какой дэвид финчер, ебанный ты пёс?
режиссировать жизнь свою - право живых.
ты вряд ли выебешь когда-то девушку с рельефом.
твоя учесть - жарить только пьяных чик в угаре.
наклоняешь раком, чтобы сделать шкуре белфи.
и вот ты, в клубе, вместе с ней, из баночек хуяришь
дешёвый пивасик - жаль, что не виски.
рак печени хапнешь - жанночка фриске.
есть парочка мыслей (марочек, в смысле)
и за ночь, меж сисек, той шмаре член втиснешь.

эй бот, знай, твоё время уже давно на исходе - цейтнот.
а ты всё вторишь упрямо, что ты - гвоздь этой программы?! тогда, сука, забей рот.
эй, несите скорей гроб, бро, это как глок - затвор, клик-клак, бэм в лоб.
перед тобой джек-потрошитель и тебе сегодня выпал (пидр) джекпот.
да и плевать на твой хайп и свэг, я снова нажимаю rec (bang) - хэдшот.
мои сучки на твоей могиле, под хава нагила, устроят (нехило) тверк жоп.
я день за днём трахаюсь с этим дерьмом, будто мой хоп - секс-шоп.
тут каждый смертен фараон и тебя - заметь, гондон - уже твой склеп ждёт.

хватит нести околёсицу.
вроде, сто раз обещал ты забросить всё,
но продолжаешь писать, в дождь и стужу, вот эти
никому нахуй ненужные треки.
ты, как ороборос, по кругу всё снова,
сжираешь свой собственный хвост и не скоро,
по-ходу, ты сможешь сломать этот цикл.
рвать цепь событий и, блядь, не чирикать - можно, конечно.
но раньше срока беду не накликай. кому ты там чешешь?
курву из клуба в постель брось поспешно
знай только, что, в темноте, сквозь одежду,
сколько в штанах евро, видят те суки,
будто у них евровидение.
кукиш они лишь получат. ломай им ебучки.
зашей их “цветки” с волосами текучие.

твоя круть - фантазии твоей плод; твои семь кругов ада - это мои семь нот.
ты готов толкать свой жирный ass в эс-корт весь год, дабы залезть в топ.
и ты за это, бездарь, горд? в подземку лезет каждый, мать его, облезлый кот.
я вырос на тех улицах, куда не сунется даже, мать его, местный коп.
местный хоп - это блеск и понт и дерзкий тон, но их мерзкий флоу
будто лесби стон, таких здесь притон, где же жесть? напор? а только лесть и вздор.
не лезь! микрофон тебе - инородный предмет, как в твоём чресле - кол.
реплик ком - это цирк уродов, где каждый - лепрекон. и это не прикол, сука.

ездишь в траликах - не на бэнтли.
плюёшь рифмы в падиках - не на бэттле.
ещё не фристайлишь, как noize mc.
до сих пор ты не знаешь, кто - скриптонит.
на лонгмиксах, людей - больше, чем на концертах.
перископ твой через две недели, блять, иссяк.
выебонишь ты в текстах, на самом деле ты - простак.
ты и близко не дуешь так часто, как в песнях.
взирать сквозь пиздатый экран - как здорово, дети!
так, занимайте места.
(ебать) ведь, в сравнении с этим,
вздоры монтекки с семьёй капулетти - детсад.
тут запущен сюжет, как у йети - пизда.
ты не лучший уже - охуеть и не встать.
сей процесс необратим, опустел пьедестал.
досчитал до тридцати, так никем и не стал.

тем, кто радость на ненависть выменял

and all i can say is fuck everything.
fuck everyone. fuck everything.

fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck everything.
i wanted to help...

i wanted to help (not too sure i can handle it),
to save people’s lives. realized i’m not good enough.

harmony’s dead, the chords are dissonant.
scream what you think. because nobody’s listening.
this is not art, this noise that you sing.
fuck everyone, shut the fuck up and fuck everything.

--
boastin' on the mic like my name was richard pryor
some malt liquor in my system make me feel higher
back in the days, chuck t's was my attire, fly shit
check out sly's shit when it drops, i don't go pop,
hip-hop shit, so cut the nonsense 
when i drop this priceless shit
so fake rappers catch crisis when i mic this,
bring the guitars and the amps, and 
turn it louder than a bomb, i represent, feelin' live again.

--
so i was born
to live for a few seconds.
can i make something precious?
limited time.
don’t remember what i was before...
appearance on the storyboard – 
only one meaning:
a lot of noise
and a very bright light
after that darkness.
so let’s repeat once more.
change.

--
everything’s different.
everyone changes but me.
i don’t why i’m
feeling this cold lately.
lie to myself that
this is my last cigarette.
i will regret it
definitely maybe.

--
ascund tot ce să știi aș vrea
ascund tot ce să știi aș vrea
și sap un joc din neștiință
și mă provoc să cad în gol
că nu sunt cea mai sinceră ființă.

--
i release the best of me
to find worst.
what an ugly beast i am.
you admit it?
i release myself
and it really hurts.
stop being me.
stop it.

--
силой фраз, потоком флоу
бит и бас - мой рок-н-ролл,
на ушах - потолок и пол!
только так! только хардкор!
но не стать легендой теперь мне -
перерос тупака и кобэйна,
но ещё в силах дать полного рэйва.
все мы - одна огромная флэйва,
музыка - наше объединение,
нет раздора и нет разделения
одна любовь, одно стремленье,
один путь, одно направление
одной цепи все мы звенья,
где нет нации и цвета кожи.
хип-хоп или рок - все мы схожи.
по сути, двигаем одно и то же.
настрой читку, настрой дисторшн!
если выбивать, то сто из ста,
если умирать,то как рок-звезда.

--
бессловесный крик
прозвучит в твоей душе,
когда ты научишься видеть
изнанку привычных предметов,
когда ты поймёшь,
что слеп и беспомощен в этом
безжалостном мире,
когда ты почувствуешь то,
что не можешь понять,
захочется плакать тебе,
но нельзя унывать,
но нельзя умирать!

--
ne-au prins într-o pânză de hârtie,
ne-au cusut buzele cu o frânghie,
fi-veți de folos,
sta-veți unde-ați fost,
pentru încă o vecie.
cu lacrimi și sudori am rupt hârtia,
și cu mintea am depănat frânghia,
fi-vom liberi noi,
cu sau fără voi,
spală-ne-vom fața de noroi!

--
reach into the void
we are the product of some experiment
from the shadows of the change
in the end we stand alone.
reaching for ways out of this dream
cut up the part for the illusion
we are so desperate for a way.

--
fuck!

--
our deep mind no limit knows,
our thoughts are high as the bright sun.
i have no reason to suppose
that sacred feelings are all gone.

--
hold on to your dream,
it's never too late.
although it may seem
you're losing this game.
just give what you've got,
believe in yourself
and someday you'll have
your story to tell.

--
take a big step back and literally
fuck your own face.

and all i can say is

all you can hear (20 musicians collab)

it's been a whole lot 
since i fell asleep, 
to stop all this dreaming 
and finally feel 
the sweet, taste of 
defeat, but no - 
i quit. i want, 
i want to finally breathe, 
out and in. 

-- 
we're heading back to the start, 
shallows close in behind our ways, 
while we watch them burn. 
every parallel tide 
has a place where lovers drown 
across our empty sky. 

-- 
(don't tell me that) 
thousand facez, 
this is so gross - 
none the same, 
just sad. 
talk to them 
but they are frozen 
it's all in my head. 
(don't tell me that) 

-- 
yoga pants on instagram, 
tons of refugees drown. 
those motherfuckers showing dicks on streets. 
you personal growth, 
represented by shrooms, 
growing on you corpse. 
you slowly decompose. 
you mouth. 
you keep mouth shut 
to get the job you never wanted to perform. 
you born slave 
with no opinion, 
as long as you agree to be one. 

-- 
once you hit this road to nowhere, 
there will be no turning back, 
as your time keeps running forward, 
causing you a heart attack. 

-- 
car je suis trop bon aux adieux, 
l'abandon, les non-lieux 
sont mes points forts, 
mes zones de confort. 
l'âme comme une maison close, 
une pute derrière chaque porte. 
mes oublié ont maillé le monde 
et ceux qui m'ont oublié 
sont encore plus nombreux. 

-- 
once told that the book was freedom, 
now barely holding onto my guts, 
exclaiming the silence into the void, 
i’m pulling my chest out of self-caused repression. 

-- 
я - разбавленное вино. но не моя вина, что я разбит. 
меня выбили, как ковер и трясли, как пустой конверт 
и ждали слов, но я - немое кино, 
ни букв, ни письма, ни пыли, 
лишь пустое панно. 
закончили не начавши, 
но ждут великих свершений. 
я сшит из разных людей, почивших много веков назад. 
и, наконец, спустя сотни поколений, 
слов, слез, войн, людей, 
я понял, что не совершенен. 
но любое пустое панно - 
это тысячи и тысячи возможных идей. 

-- 
i just go ahead 
with a rope around my neck 
from the people that surround me 
with their bullshit to condemn me. 
be a normie, be like all, 
there's some standards you should know: 
your opinion is shit, 
if you are different, you are a creep. 
never be your own, 
take a place in crowd, 
keep your mind close to the ground. 
better turn around, 
change the way you are, 
being special is called "clown". 
burn down all the labels, 
fuck you and your systems. 

-- 
неизбежность 
умирания 
в ледяной 
бездне, 
неизбежность 
возрождения, 
противостояние 
разрушению. 

-- 
humanity — 
it's falling to its knees 
in front of enslavement. 
society — 
seems like this era brought 
slavery. 

-- 
ascultă cum urlă în beznă cei mulți 
de furie și disperare 
prea umbre să-i vezi cât sunt de desculți 
și cât de cu coatele goale. 

dar marea se-ntinde și vuietul crește 
și-n aerul greu se ridică, 
iar cerul se crapă și-acuma privește 
cum tot întunericul pică. 

-- 
внутри стоны, мятеж, кома и брешь... 
сколько не тешь - нет новых надежд. 
не пройден рубеж к тем берегам, 
время не сберегал - лишь бред, балаган. 
я не предпалагал, что я верил врагам, 
а раньше ведь как?! - хоть небо к ногам. 
наверх как икар, а счас - нервы, накал. 
неврастенник и хам, я предал свой храм. 
чёрно-белый экран, в душе - бредни и хлам. 
фатум мне намекал - наверняка, 
будет сотни ошибок... тут нет лекал. 
дорога к вершинам... тут не легка. 
устал и смолк, будто на устах замок. 
сердце - в ломбард и под залог, 
соль на раны, а мне бы - сон нирваны, 
пока движется ещё колесо сансары. 

-- 
suffocating, we were left there. 
sorrow on our tongues. 
thanks for bringing a breath of lost air 
to our emptied lungs. 

-- 
don't tell me that… 

-- 
don't tell me that we're just dying - 
this is all too much. 
those words echo carries; 
they pass me by in silence, 
like sun and moon don't touch. 
and all i can say is…

and all i can say is

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