Ceremony / (obřad)

I'm not your son, because I have no parents
I'm not a citizen, because I feel more free
Than just a henchman with a number
I'm not your favorite artist, because this is only
My ceremony
Because this is only my ceremony.

I am not afraid of enemies, because the biggest enemy,
That's me
And when I see dying I'm strongest 
I learn to delight in pain, because I'm a coward
Because I'm in a blue funk.

Nobody will take my freedom from me
At least because nobody has given it to me
So don't write that I died of AIDS
And bury me deep under ground.

I Feel like shitting / (chce se mi srát)


I feel like shitting, but I don't know the ropes 
I may be too cowardly to take off my pants.
It will serve only to be full of booze 
Or not to fear things for a moment

I said everything, but people only clapped their hands sleepily
And now I am certain it's only a game
In fact somebody only makes a game of it
A big snake is creeping in sand
As if people would like to be free
But they lose time by speaking and habits.


6 vs 9

If there's no sunrise tomorrow
If mountains are swallowed by sea
I won't care about it
'cause I've got my own world.

If all hippies 
In this fucking world
Cut their long hair
I won't give a shit about it.

And if 6 is 9
It simply won't interest me
Because I've got my own world.


Disorders of Ironed Neck-Ties / (poruchy nažehlených kravat)

A 16-year-old bastard
Took his father's gun
Full to the brim
Didn't want to fuck with it any more

Good son
Led like a dog by the lead
Fucked all the night and then gave it up in the morning

At last, in vain
What sort of man are you, what am I?

Then a perspired chap
Must write a report
"Just a schizophrenic" goes on
To hell with him
And with this parental itch

The ambulance is coming now
Smells of chlorine so disgustingly
Just mistakes of ironed neck-ties

What sort of man are you?
Eternal weeping.

BLACK JUICE/ Černej džus /
CONCRETE PANEL KIDS  WANNA PAINT THE CITY RED,
´ COS THEIR DADDY´ S JUST DROPPED DEAD.
HE´ D BEEN WATCHING HIS BELOVED VCR,
OFFERING HIM A LIFT IN A DREAM-LIKE, HELL-BOUND CAR.
STOP THE KIDS, THEY´ VE SET ON A WILD DEUCE,
I DON´ T WANNA DRINK THAT BLACK JUICE.
GO FOR IT! – WHITE FACES COLOURED PINK,
RUBBER MASKS PROTECT THEM FROM INFECTIOUS STINK.
PSYCHEDELIC PARTY IS JUST ABOUT TO BEGIN,
IT´ S AS EXCITING AS A MIND-EXPANDING FILM.
THINGS ARE NOT GONNA LOOK THAT GRIM,
YOU´ VE GOT GOOD FAITH AND YOUR STRAWBERY CREAM.
DON´ T LET IT GO SOUR !
FEED THE PIGS WITH THAT SHIT,
THEY´ LL GROW FAT IN A SECOND .
AT THE PARTY PHARMACISTS WILL WONDER
AND THEIR TEETH IN CINZANO WIIL FAST BE RECKONED.
NATIONS WILL BECOME EXTINCT, WEST AND EAST,
THEY´ RE EVEN SCARED TO WEEP, TO FEED THAT DEAD BEAST.
SCRUTINIZE MORE CLOSELY YOUR OWN SISTER´ S BEAMS,
EXAMINE DAILY EVEN YOUR OWN DREAMS !


AND THE HIPPIE CREATED HERBICIDE
/ Hippík stvořil herbicid /
THERE´ S NOT A TINY LITTLE BIT OF ATOM LEFT FROM THE 60´ S.
A PILE OF LONG HAIR IS A FLAME,
IT´ S UNDER SUPERVISION OF FAT HIPPIE WITH A WIG.
KIDS ARE TIED UP WITH CHAINS TO A RADIATOR.
HIPPIES HAVE GROWN THEIR BELLIES,
THEIR BRAINS HAVE GIVEN WAY TO THICK FAT.
BUY UP THE WHOLE CROP OF „GOLDEN HITS“ RELICS,
LARGELY THOSE THAT HAD A WORLDWIDE INFLUENCE.
A POLICE OFFICER IS CASTING HIS MIND BACK
AND SEES HIMSELF SHAGGING INDISCRIMINATELY IN THE MUD.
SOMETIMES HE WISHES IT WAS ALL BACK AGAIN.
AND THOSE WHO FAILED TO COME TO THE PARTY PLEADED WITH GOD:
„I WISH ALL THAT FLOWER-POWER CRAP NEVER RETURNED AGAIN.“
STREAMLINE CENSORSHIP, A CHECKERBOARD TEMPLE FOR PAWNS.
GOOD OLD DAYS ARE GONE AND ALL WENT DOWN THE DRAIN-
-LET THINGS ROT THERE !
LET´ S TAKE BETTER CARE OF OUR DAYS,
NOW WE KNOW ALL TOO WELL HOW FAR THINGS CAN GO.
WHERE ?
ALL POLICE FORCES CAN LOSE OUT NOWADAYS
´ COS EACH AND EVERYONE OF US ATTENDS VOLUNTARY COURSES
AND STUDIES MANUALS FOR SELF-DESTRUCTION,
                                                         SELF-CONTROL,
                                                         SELF-CENSORSHIP !
FROM TIME TO TIME  SOME OF THOSE VOLUNTEERS
SHOOT THEMSELVES DEAD,
BUT THE REST WILL CERTAINLY SURVIVE,
´ COS THEY STUFF THEIR THROATS WITH PINK PILLS,
THEY STUFF THEIR BRAINS WITH COMMERCIALS
AND IT FEELS LIKE WATCHING A STUPID SCI-FI MOVIE,
BUT IT´ S JUST A STARTER.
A REAL TASTER IS ABOUT TO BE SERVED,
IT´ S GOT ALREADY MIXED UP WITH SNOWFLAKES.
LET´ S JUST WAIT FOR HARD SNOW-FALL !

I´M GONNA FEED THEM UP !“
/ Vykrmím si je /
HIPPIES WERE WRONG
AND THE COMMIES WERE WRONG TOO.
SO LET´S WAIT WHAT´S ON THE MENU NEXT.
DOG ATE DOG TO BARE BONES, I GUESS,
NO GODLY CHEF COULD HAVE MADE THIS MESS.
IT MUST HAVE STEPPED OUT OF BILLBOARDS
PICTURING A GENERAL MEETING A BIG CHEESE,
BOTH SPREADING NASTY VIRUS DESEASE.
…I´M GONNA FEED THEM UP.
NOW PAY MORE HEED MY BOYS,
DO NOT FORGET TO GIVE FOOD TO YOUR PLASTIC TOYS.
AND THEN PULL STRINGS OF THE WIRED CROWD,
IT´LL GO BANG, THERE IS NO DOUBT.
HUNGRY NIGHTMARES HAVE NO MOUTHS,
DOG ATE DOG AND MOUSE ATE MOUSE.
AIN´T GONNA DINE NO DRUG,
AIN´T GONNA FUCK A LAME DUCK.
I´M GONNA SPARE SOME BREATH,
UNTIL  MY PAINFUL DEATH.
DARKNESS ECHOES THE SOUND OF BROKEN BONES AND BENDED KNEES
DEFORMED ODDS AND ENDS WILL FILL UP A FURNACE
BIG CHEESES MAKING THINGS MORE TENSE
HAVE GOT THEIR FUCKING PLANS.
AIN´T GONNA DINE NO DRUG…
 
"ANARCHY DOES NOT SUIT FOR A COMMON MAN“
 / Anarchie nikdy ne pro všechny /
HOW CAN WE STAND ON OUR FEET
WHILE DESPISING OUR OWN GUILT ?
HOW CAN WE FEEL THE NEED TO FIGHT
AFTER PAYING UP FOR OUR OWN LOBOTOMY ?
HOW CAN WE CORNER THE BEAST
WITH OUR FINGER OUT STRETCHED
WHILE SMELLING OUR OWN RAT ?
AND MEANWHILE THE ENEMY´S GONNA STAB OUR BACKS
WITH A MASK OF OUR OWN FACE.
THERE´S FUCKING SILENCE ALL AROUND
YET EVERYBODY CAN YELL THEIR HEADS OUT.
PLEASE CAN ANYBODY TELL
HEAVEN FROM HELL ?
WHO´S BEEN CLEVER ENOUGH AND STRONG
TO TELL THE RIGHT FROM THE WRONG ?
WE´VE BEEN ROCKING IN OUR CHAIRS,
TWIDDLING OUR PAY-ROLLS;
OUR SWEATED IN-AND-OUTS WITH BOOZE
AND MONDAY MORNING BLUES.
AND THE RESPONSIBILITY´S WORTH
LESS THAN WEAK SHIT
´COS IT´S BEEN A LONG TIME
SINCE JESUS´S HEART CEASED TO BEAT.
THERE´S FUCKING SILENCE ALL AROUND
….
NO DOUBT WE´RE GONNA DIE PITIFULL WAY
WITH INEPT FEELINGS OF BEING VICTIMS.
WE´RE CANNED INSIDE OUR TRUTHS,
WE´RE SCARED LIKE A CRAZY CHICKENSHIT.
AND OUR BIG MOUTH TALKS ABOUT THE REVOLUTION
ARE GONNA DISSOLVE IN A PUDDLE OF OUR LIQUID FEAR-
-FEAR OF SEEING THROUGH THE THINGS.
THAT´S WHY ANARCHY DOES NOT SUIT A COMMON MAN,
IT´S FOR AN ETERNAL WARRIOR.

THE ENGINES HAVE GOT NO BOTTOM“
 / …vždyť strojům tolik chutná /
YOU MAY SERVE LIKE A DOG,
YOU MAY BE A LEADER OF THE PACK.
IT MAY HAPPEN EVERY MINUTE
BUT SOONER OR LATER,
WE ALL ARE BOUND TO DIE.
SO LET´S SAVE OUR BACKS WITH CASH
IT WILL KEEP GOOD COMPANY AT OUR RIPE OLD AGE.
THE RIGHTS OF SCRAPPED ENGINES,
GREASY YELLOW SNAPSHOTS FROM OUR CHILDHOOD
WON´T REVEAL ANYTHING.
YOU´RE WAITING
YOU´RE WAITING ALL THE TIME, BUT FOR WHAT ?
TO BE POLITICALLY CORRECT MEANS TO SHELL
THE STENCH OF BURNED WINGS.
SO LET´S FILL OUR BELLY TANKS WITH PETROL,
THE ENGINES HAVE GOT NO BOTTOM !
SURE, THEY´VE GOT NO BOTTOM.
ON THE DAY OF OUR FUNERAL
DO SAVE THE SPACE IN YOUR COFFINS
FOR GENETICAL ENGINEERS
AND YOUR IMMORTAL BULLSHITS.
CLONE YOUR ASSES TO MULTIPLY THE CROWD
WITH THE MORALS OF ITS OWN
-WHAT A BLOODY FUCKING MESS !


„FOR SAFETY´S SAKE“
 / Pro jistotu /
COULD YOU , PLEASE , BRAND THE HEAVEN NOW
WITH THE DATE OF THAT FINAL DAY
WHEN THE EARTH IS GONNA PAY ?
SO WE COULD CATCH UP WITH OUR PRAYERS
AND TAKÉ OUT ALL OUR SAVINGS.


„DEAD HAVELS“
 / Mrtví Havlové /
OUR KENNEDY IS OUT OF THE WOODS,
HE´S GOT TO BE SCARED NO MORE.
HE WON´T BE SHOT,
´COS HE´S COME TO GRIPS WITH IT.
„ ENOUGH THAT MUD-SLINGING,
I´M GONNA PUNISH THOSE CHEEKY TONGUES,
LET THEM EAT MORE HUMBLE PIES !“
OUR LIVING DEAD KENNEDY
SINGS THE SAME OLD SONG
LIKE HIS TORTURERS USED TO SING.
AND HE WALLOWS IN IT.
IF YOU HAVE YOUR OWN SPOON,
DO TUCK IN AND GET A MOUTHFUL !
A YOUNG DEMOCRAT HAS JUST KICKED THE BUCKET.
HE MANAGED IT ON HIS OWN,
EVEN WITHOUT WAISTING A SPARE BULLET,
EVEN WITHOUT STAINING THE GROUND.
NOW THE DISSIDENT SCUM CAN YELL THEIR HEADS OUT,
TRULY IN A COMMIE MANNER.
OUR NATION CAN CRY NO MORE AND NEVER WILL,
EVEN THOUGH THERE ARE MANY MORE DEAD HAVELS HERE.
THERE´S NO NEED TO DECK THEIR COFFINS OUT.
THEY´VE GULPED THE CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION,
LEAVIN ABOUT HORS-D´ OEUVRE.
WE´VE JUST SWEPT IT UNDER OUR VELVET CARPET.
FUNERAL LIMOUSINES WILL ARRIVE
AND THE MASSES WILL PAY THEIR RESPECTS.
THE BITTER SADNESS WILL SPILL ALL OVER THE PLACE.
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT, I´M NOT THE ONLY ONE
AND MY MEMORY SERVES ME WELL
NOW I´VE GOT TO CRY OUT: „ DEAD HAVELS“