Definer

And my head is spinning wild,
and my thoughts are all but fine
and the world is blurred, oh my,
there is nothing to define. 

Still holding on,
and I’m seeking for the sun,
but the night is dark, it's cold,
‘cause I'm going, going down, down.

And I moan, and I moan,  
with a moan, 
I'm sinking down, 
oh I can't turn around. 
Round.

There's a mist,
oh, that fuckin' bliss. 
Let the fake get away,
get away, get away.

Oh, hold.   

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Going with a wind
and I'm going to define,
or I'll never gonna bounce,
from the filth,
that all divined it.

Crawl in to this pain, 
and I'm crawling in alone. 
I'm going to the room,
that I never moved in.
And I.

Going in with,
burden in my can,
and I'll baldly do it.
Done. Do it done.
Do it done.
And I.

Gonna burn all the relics
in my soul,
and soon be rubbing off,
all the filth that's going on.

Going with a wind
and I'm going to define,
well I never wanna deal,
with a bawdy, bawdy bine, bine. 

Never gonna feel
and I'm going to a stall
and a fight is all but right,
with the crap that's going on, on.

Rubbing off,
with a knife scrubbing off,
and soon I'll be done.
Do be done.
Do be done.

Soon I will be where I belong,
where I belong, long. 
Soon I will be where I belong.  

And what the fear is got to be,
when you are one, who wants to see.
When you're going to define,
it doesn't mean that you are right.
And I.

Don't, don't,
don't think,
about the things,
that you're never gonna find
and a life is gonna win, win.

Go, go,
with a wrong, with a right,
with a need to define,
but never let ‘it grind,
grind, grind you.

'Cause maybe you'll be wrong,
and life is still ahead of you.

Just fine.


Definer

The Tide song from second album Kings of the hill

Decline

MINLJIVOST

MOJIM ...

Odhaja(m)

Mi SMO VESOLJE

Slovenska definicija Definerja. Pa še tekst za lažje razumevanje. Če češ?

NeZnano

In v glavi se vrti,
v mislih spet postajam ti
in ves svet je zamegljen,
nedoločen za objem.   

Komaj  zdržim,
skrbno iščem svoj vsakdan,
noč je temna, o ta mraz,
tonem, tonem, čisto sam. 
Sam.

In ječim in ječim,
godrnjam,
drsim le dol.
O, tole bo pokol.
Boj.

Zdaj megla,
o, ne da se tja.
Um bezlja, naj prasklja,
naj krevslja, naj zbezlja.

O, stoj!

Ja, ja, ja.

Z vetrom se igram,
naj določi mi to pot,
da odbijem se od dna,
vso nesnago naj konča. 
Zdaj.

Plazim se bolan.
Prepuščen sem. Čisto sam.
Iščem prostor še neznan,
ki mi nikdar ni bil dan.
In ja.

Vstopam, grem, 
breme misli je problem
in odkrito ti povem.
Je problem.
Bo problem.

In še.

Naj uničim vse ostanke 
in kaj zdaj?
Pride čas, iščem vzvod,
čistim blato mojih zmot. 

Z vetrom se podim,
da si zgodbo razložim,
a nikoli nisem znal,
gnati gnusnih, gnusnih stran, stran.

Nič ne čutim več,
le na mestu sem obstal,
boj navzven je bled kot ti,
govno stiska me. Ne dam. Am.   

Drgnem dol
in z nožem strgam dol,
kaj kmalu bom končal.
Da bom sam. Tam bom sam. 

Sumim, da tole bo problem ,
da bo problem, blem.
Sumim, da tole bo problem.

In kakšen strah lahko sledi,
če ne vidiš kakor vsi,
ko označiš svojo pot
in je sopotnik tvojih zmot.

Ne da? 

Ne, ne, 
ne razmišljaj o stvareh.
Razumljeno pač ne bo,
le živeti, ne le beg, beg. 

Le, le,
misli prav, misli stran,
nuja znati, motiti,
ne živi pa le sanj, sanj, sanj, sanj, sanj. Uf.

Ker tja še nisi šel
in boj je prav preprosto lep
in fajn.

Dejan Osterman