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1. |
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This path...
It brought us to the burning coast
And I want to know
What's on your mind?
Tough times
'Tween the storm and the forest fire
Compromising lies
Luck goes on trial
We've waited long enough dragging hopefully
Door to door. Come in.
For the better or worse in a span of a century
We've harnessed our beliefs
From the factory walls through the stamps of burocracy
To burn our wood and reasons to proceed
You'll see
There's no place for honesty
Stones in shallow creeks
Lay cold and still
But they'll kill
Once you dare to build a shrine
Wish for better life
Left unfulfilled
We've waited long enough dragging hopefully
Door to door. Come in.
For the better or worse in a span of a century
We've harnessed our beliefs
From the factory walls through the stamps of burocracy
To burn our wood and reasons to proceed
This path...
It brought us to the burning coast
And I want to know...
We've waited long enough dragging hopefully
Worn out human skins
For the better or worse in a span of a century
We've harnessed our beliefs
From the factory walls, through the crooked democracy
We go hand in hand and chanting:
Let me live!
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2. |
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So we're back in the trenches as it seems
And you're waging the war again, oh please
Can you give me some rest, a planned retreat
Just a day in the week?!
We fight, and I'm stuck in the crossfire, constantly
While you're sending your troops and cavalry
With a venomous grin - admit defeat!
It's like a kick in the teeth!
I can't believe you're having fun
But I promise that it's true
I'll ride the bomb only
If it falls right down on your roof
Can we call it a truce and have some tea?
I'll be back at the frontline, honestly
Treatin' wounded and counting casualties
If that's what you need!
Squad stand easy!
I can't believe you're having fun
But I promise that it's true
I'll ride the bomb only
If it falls right down on your roof
Oh, I'll ride the bomb only
If it hits the ground next to you
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3. |
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Now picture cold nights
So far from home and I
Was broke and hungry
In this town of towering lies
And I wonder why
She came close
So close to crack the shell
A friendly smile
It took me ages, countless miles
Until I realised
This girl was a Chekhov's gun
Loaded and waiting for her time
In the final act of the boring play
But the moment never came and
All the actors left the stage
Now she's wondering what went wrong and when
I can relate
My friend,
There's no need to pretend
I was a gutless fool and I was so unfair
But I'd never dare
To ask to hold her hand
While I was out there down and drinking
Someone smarter combed her hair
Well, I was unaware
We both were the Chekhov's guns
Loaded and waiting for our time
In the final act of the boring play
And we'll carry our pawnshop hearts
Suppressing memories 'til they stop
Or atleast until we meet again
If we ever meet again
We laughed in the hallways
We drank after midnight
And once I recall waking up in her bed
But it never got past
All those innocent stories
We both had our vows and we both knew back then
That the seasons were changing
And tempers were boiling
Since I came in town I was destined to leave
True. But I still remember
Those days they were golden
And traces of powder
Will always remain underneath
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4. |
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I was baptized in fire
Got cooled down in the water
I was raised among liars
And tattooed by pens of the restless reporters
I've been crumpling that paper
By the rusty typewriter
Modern day Diogenes
I rambled the streets with a cigarette lighter
But I still try
To sneak through the hole in the fence
To the woods in the pale moon light
So horrified
I'm still searching for paw prints of the one
that has once burned bright
The Blakes Tyger
I'm the echoing depots
Housing old locomotives
I'm the dust from the sawmills
A remnant, a trace of the yesterdays forests
In this world without borders
So depressivly hopeless
I'm still searching for wisdom 'tween
Old writers and poets
But I still try
To sneak through the hole in the fence
To the woods in the pale moon light
So horrified
I'm still searching for paw prints of the one
that has once burned bright
The Blakes
Tyger, Tyger burning bright
In the forest of the night
Who's immortal hand or eye
Could frame that frightful symmetry
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“Small Town Mysteries” is a tough one. Conceived during a five hour long spontaneous jam session with a let-it-all-out approach it both harkens back to the artists’ punk-rock upbringing and follows the course set by the first album. The voice is back and the crumpled paper poetry is back but this time with a bunch of fellow Karelian musicians to bounce off of. The result - four songs, oscillating from a gentle whisper to a desperate outcry, disjointed, reflection-fueled but unmistakably notforme!
Story:
small_town_mysteries.tilda.ws
—
This is [SCL194]
www.southerncitylab.net
released November 10, 2017
Lyrics, vocals & guitar: Pavel Mokhort
Bass guitar: Anatoly Nikulin
Drums: Ruslan Popov
Backing vocals: Dasha Rozhina (3)
Keys: Vladimir Zhmurin (3)
Accordion: Dmitriy Dobrinin (4)
Album cover by Inna Shakhova and Pavel Mokhort
Recorded at Kukkovka Hell Studios, Petrozavodsk, Karelia, August, 2017
Mixing & mastering by Anatoly Nikulin, St.Petersburg, September, 2017
Special thanks to Nikolai Kuskov, Maksim Parasukov, Alex Fry, Evgeny Startsev, Nikolai Protsuk and everyone who helped to make this one possible.
Join Us!
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found.ee/notforme-vk
Blog:
found.ee/notforme-blog