Gas Chamber Melodies все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

So many questions
No plausible answers
Being lost in chaos of attitudes, ideas and feelings
Need of expressing one's own life
Constant looking for one's own path
Refusal to toe the line
Shattered dreams of the loved ones
A failure or a misfit...

Exclusive sperm bank announces gathering of "material",
only the best candidates will be accepted
We're sorry but you don't qualify
Lack of "proper" features,
stand behind the line
Chamber is being prepared...

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Few minutes of bullshit that manage to sell everything... Here we have brand-new ties, which sing, dance and are completely useless...
Call now 0 700... Visit our website SUCKER!

This text does not require explanation it will do if we look at shops' offers or check what is on the market in TV Shop. People surpass themselves. Desk which makes folding shirts easier, candle with music box built in are a peak of stupidity. No comments! I am sure you have come across other, even better, examples. The worst thing is that people buy it, fueling need for sheer stupidity.

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Work, work and buy. It is your choice. You do not know what to do with yourself? We invite you to a newly opened mall you will get there everything you want if only you had wasted away a sufficient amount of your life working to afford our products. Satisfied? You still miss something? Well, we have given you everything what we think is necessary for you. You already have God, you've already bought a TV set... Keep running in circle, looking... Maybe you will find fulfillment on a shelf of our endlessly huge mall. You're welcome!

Sick image of beauty drives her self-destruction. Mirror frames won't widen by themselves, but she can't look like that. Every pound of fat is like a scalpel in the eye. Assurance of her lack of worth. The frames won't widen but she can throw up the guts... It's a small price for 30 kilos of weight.

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She sat down in her room, looking at posters of those famous, well known and so perfect models and actresses once again. She looks at them everyday without realizing that these are images of those, who torture her... She has to do something that would make her look like them. Vomiting after every meal is becoming more and more suspicious, her stupid parents aren't able to understand that she can survive without food! She forces another portion into her mouth thinking about numbers of calories, which distance her from the chosen image! Maybe that boy will notice her if she loses on weight a bit more. She still weights too much and doesn't feel well in her own shapes! Parched body, skin and bones to be more precise, tends to product hated fat. It's so complicated... It's so difficult... Every single day makes her feel worse! Sick image of beauty leads to terror every time she looks in the mirror. Not because of being almost invisible but for the fact that she is still too 'big'! Skinny legs barely lift the weight of thirty kilos. But she is healthy! Everyone around picks on her! Why? Maybe they are simply jealous!!! One day she will be beautiful and fit...

A dominating model: a sickly thinness. A XXIst century's paradox: an anorectic advertising a chocolate bar. Rubensian shapes are out of fashion. The pictures of boys and girls putting themselves to a draconian diet who tempt smilingly offering success, better self consciousness, social acceptance attack from everywhere. Be as we are they seem to shout. But can be healthy a person who denies herself everything not being able to accept herself? Welcome to a new nightmare counting of calories and a sound of a puking bulimic.

Every authority wants the submissive
to grit their teeth
to close their eyes
and to bear its shitty actions in silence.
But submission is a gag closing your mouth which should tear the silence with a scream.
Submission is swallowing rage growing deep inside,
coming up to your throat, submission is allowing to be ill-treated.
It's yielding to the rights of others and not deciding for oneself.

Are we chosen to lead to destruction?
Are we chosen to destroy others?
Everything goes fine
There's a little time left, and there's still a lot of beauty...
Destruction.
Self-destruction. I'm sure.
We aren't chosen to take care of life, someone would know something...
We aren't chosen to improve our surrounding...

This isn't song about love. Imaginary pattern.
You, emotionally destroyed, choose anyone, thinking it'll be ok.
I know that you were dead from the beginning.
Time passes quickly.
Am I right or wrong?
Am I wrong?
Bullshit. You'd better reconcile with it.
Trust me, this isn't song about love.