Saturday
My Byzantium
Spit out the fish on a nettles
I am a sailor, you are a lighthouse, brigantines to you
In a dispute with the horizon Your volition will be unified
Congregation wakes up by the bell’s throat
Someone’s ashes from the shelf just to make some cocoa
Thoughts and preserves are tempered by the miracle of the autoclave
Cold iron greedily extinguishes oxygen
Reserve is forming and coming back to the lips
Life will born new plots again
Rockets are loading up, there is our favorite hardtack
Saltstroke far away from sweet shores
Life quickly divided into friends or enemies
Fathers of nostalgia
Entropy fighters
They say tropes to Misas and Philaes are the same
Symmetry crunched roaring like a spaceport
Temple needs more souls, scriptures and an interpreter
What’s the value? What keeps you in the saddle?
What questions do you ask yourself when you are alone?
Unseen? Produced. Said? Done
Nature of matter? Mystery revealed
Nobody will ever be equal
Your God does not tell you to think different
Your experiment, no one will repeat it
We have a new game, they will be visited by meteorite
Wherever the paradise is, somewhere hell should be
Seeing laughter requires working tear system
Crescent deducts the sun then puts it on the cross
We forgive being beaten, but only by heartbeats
Better understanding of the habitation laws
We amplify the incoming attention
Excessive violence is an unwise fellow
Loving master appreciates every cattle
Perpetuum mobile? No, tumbleweed
You will get enough before you will settle on the hill
Everything is revealed by your red rays
Pygmy owl in the night, paradox, phenomenon
Teach me again how to fulfill the prophetic
Provide the bread for the parish
Every day in a hurry, that’s spiritual work
It’s a joy to see
Great Saturday
Skomorohi, 03.12.2022
Music: Goose N Noose
Mixing: STEEGLEE
VFX: A_Listratov