Ampere все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

oung hearts don't always beat to standard verse & chorus.
we'll deviate from your script & fake our own deaths tonight.
we've plotted our escape,
using these instruments & a corrupt language,
with voices stronger than those projected.
the stage is set, but the set's a fake.
we refuse to memorize the soundtrack to your racket.
and i will not choreograph the next distraction.

lies told a thousand times, take an independance from our words.
weve all been wrong before, but this is all i know, we can speak in absolutes, create a false truth.
but how can we be proud of, that which we despise? is this our quiet revolution, built up and destroyed? well believe what we want, romanticism blacks out reality. theres only so long that we can live in hopes weve had and dreams weve created. in empty rooms with sloping walls the shades are drawn the lights are out. theres no comfort in our blackened windows, we cant resign ourselves to this, we cant gve up we wont give in. were locked up but we hold the key.
all that we thought that we knew, all that we believed, its evicent that weve fooled ourselves

We've rid ourselves of the monsters sleeping under our beds, but wake up screaming out of reach, something familiar. While we're sleeping, breathing, walls creak. We're there in nightmares, among half-thoughts. In cracked mirrors, there lie fragments of bedtime stories and dog-eared photographs. We're unfamiliar now with this place we used to call home. Faces obscured, foreign.
But I know you. At least, I knew you then.
Beds are cold new, and I'm still convinced that there are ghosts in my closet. I know they're in yours.
The scariest part is in what we didn't say.
All these years passed, are we still the same?
This will haunt me. Will it haunt you too, knowing we're part of this new alienation?

(i'll) write your name in the sand if you'll do the same of mine. when i'm gone, alert the press. tell them that though my body is gone i am still living. and you'll see me again. (of the) million words you said to me, spoke as loudly the flowers I laid out in the melting snow, wilting.

capitalism is a dead end, anarchism has gone bust, "situationism" never existed, and romanticism is a waste of time. may no law govern our bodies, and may no singular idea impose stillness. us two, we are a movement that will not be held down by any self-imposed dogmatic posturing. we are fluid & volatile - no room for the taut & tame. we'll reject the notion of modeling our patterns on archaic moral codes no in line with our lives. the dreams we have - the songs we sing - they are flashes of an unresolved past. they shed light on moments previously lived in confusion & doubt. now is the time to stand back & ask, "are we living the lives that