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Trench MortaR

 

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LIRIKSI pjesama Trench MortaRa


Trench MortaR - "Onima koji ne poznaju laži"

Laž!!!
Kako da vjerujem nečijoj laži
Kad laž je istina koja ne postoji?
Zašto da upijam nečije gluposti
Koje zbog nekih su postale stvarne?
Pogledaj i reci što je trenutno stanje?
Ulažeš im više – oni daju ti manje!
Dame i gospodo, prisni ste zemlji
U kojoj je njihovo sve što je vaše…
Pokoreni vlastima bez ikakvog razloga
Vežite se slijećemo u zemlju zdravog razuma!
Vežite se, slijećemo…



Trench MortaR - "Metak za dobro jutro"

Nitko ne sanja o tome da budi ga zvuk oružja
A kamoli da se ujutro ni ne probudi,
nikada više ne otvori oči…
živjeti nije lako,
na raskrižju dvije putanje metaka
koji poslani su od strane zatrovanih ljudi
očajnih vojnika kojima kasno je za povratak
bijeg iz svoje borbe za slobodu…
kasno je…
jer poslani su da brane državu
u zemlji koja ne odgovara za postupke pojedinaca
nitko ništa ne zna, nitko ništa ne spominje…
prekrivaju žrtve bijelim plahtama
bojeći se spomenuti da mogli smo biti braća…



Trench MortaR - "Vegetarijanska"

Na pomolu smrti stoji jedna rasa
Koju istrebljuje znatno moćnija
Ubivši najiskrenijeg prijatelja
Dižeš si moral i glad si suzbijaš
Zašto???
Kad nije ti rekao ni jednu ružnu riječ?
Zašto???
Kad nema snage da ti se suprotstavlja?
Želim ti dokazati da moral ti otpada
Kad znaš da uspijevaš u onom što ne moraš!
Želim ti dokazati da moral ti otpada
Jer što je čovjek nego RAZUMNA ŽIVOTINJA?!?



Trench MortaR - "Sistem izigravanja (Bolesna)"

Parlamentarna demokracija je laž!
Želiš li biti izrabljivan?
Vladan, prodan, kontroliran
Manipulatorima tuđih života?!?



Trench MortaR - (zasad bez imena)

posudit ću ti oči
da vidiš svoja djela
posudit ću ti ruke
da ispraviš greške
ti posudi svoje misli
da popravim štetu na njima
i bacim malo svijetla
na tvoj blatni obraz

umivaš se u lokvi
nastaloj od kiselih kiša
udišeš smrt koju si sam dozvao
i začeo ju u krilu bijelih oblaka
obojivši ih smogom u tugu

možda ima neka viša sila od horoskopa?!?



Trench MortaR - "Najduža/Mortar Moruzgva"

Majmune glupi nećemo se valjd tak zvat?
Napravit ćemo stvar koja će se tak zvat,
a ne mi idijote?!?!?

Mortar moruzgva, Mortar moruzgvaaa!!!!



Trench MortaR - "Siva Industrija"

morbidne građevine
betonski dimnjaci
pokretne trake
oblaci otrovnog plina

u svom umu
zamisljas proljece
onakvo kao sto je bilo prije

nekada se stvarno zapitas...

jadni posao
jadan zivot
gdje si?sta si?
samo si broj

svaki dan u isto vrijeme na istom mjestu
radis istu stvar
8 sati na dan

zaradjujes pare
pokoran si sluga
hvale vrijedan
jer nemas svoje ja

pazi sta govoris,kako se ponasas
psihoticna gomila,koja ne trazi spas

svaki zivot je isti
svaka radnja slicna
buducnosti nemas
proslost si izgubio

organizirana masinerija
siva industrija

tehnologija,ispiranje mozga
siva industrija

monotonija,apatija,depresija
siva industrija

more frustracija
siva industrija

praznina
siva industrija

praznina
siva industrija

praznina
siva industrija

praznina...



Trench MortaR - "SMRT SARMI!"

ja ne volim sarmu
mrzim one koji ju vole
ne znam ni sam zasto
ali ih mrzim.

SMRT SARMI x3

SMRT x6

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

 

Music Inside

subota|25.10.2008.

|Obećana zemlja....
|

 

 

 

Eto, vrlo veoma kratak post...vidim da ste se potrudili pročitati citat iz prošlog posta...tako treba....za 10 godina djeca neće znat' što je žlica, a kamoli kako se istom stavlja nešto što se zove hrana u nešto što se zove šupak....ovaj...usta...

Nego, da....izvolite....thumbup


11 ubojstava i pokušaja ubojstava na zagrebačkim ulicama u 10 mjeseci

- 29.10. 2007. Petra B. i Brunu K. pretuklo 20-ak huligana u SC-u
- 01.12.2007. Davor Zečević ubijen je hicem u Remetskom kamenjaku
- 09.03.2008. Nevena K. tuklo 15 huligana jer je jedan izbačen iz Močvare
- 15.03.2008. Frano Despić (18) ubijen je nožem u tučnjavi na Ribnjaku
- 16.05.2008. Palicama pretučen direktor Zagrebačkih cesta Rađenović
- 31.05. 2008. Luka Ritz ubijen kod Bundeka
- 02.06.2008. Novinar Jutarnjeg Dušan Miljuš pretučen ispred stana
- 17.09.2008. Josip Galinec napadnut palicama u Vukovarskoj ulici
- 07.10.2008. Ivana Hodak ubijena hicima iz pištolja na stubištu svoje zgrade
- 19.10.2008. Željku Č. pucano je u glavu na Martinovki
- 19.10.2008. Jovicu R. nožem je nasmrt izbo sakupljač boca u Prečkom
- 23.10.2008. Predsjednik Uprave NCL grupe Ivo Pukanić i Niko Franić, šef marketinga Nacionala, smrtno stradali u eksploziji automobila-bombe


Hmm....tko je sljedeći....netko "velik"? Ili netko "sitan", samo u prolazu, čekajući tramvaj....sasvim svejedno......ionako smo svi kruške....pa, kad je bal, nek' je maskenbal...jel' tako? Pa naravno, tako je.....thumbup

Do viđenja! mah

 

 

- 17:49 - Komentari (5) - Isprintaj - #


srijeda|08.10.2008.

|the gun seller....
|

 

 

 

Eto, novi post.
Iako nemam ništa pametno za napisati (osim da ovih dana konstantno letim u Zagreb i iz istog nazad, samo da bih došao tamo i shvatio da su birokracijski problemi, koji su se "nedavno", ili ti još u 7. mj pokazali, još i dalje tu, ili ti 2: da su bili sve do danas tu...hvala bogu pa je jedan dio toga rješen...naime, u normalnim uvjetima upisa na filozofski fakultet u zagrebu, studenti su u informatički sustav, tzv. ISVU i studomat upisani još u 7. mj. A ja sam, eto, tek danas...mda headbang)

I tako sam, pošto, daklem, nemam ništa pametno za napisati (nut), odlučio staviti jedan poveći citat, tj. jedan odlomak iz knjige (krimi roman sa povećim dozama humora, sarkazma i kritike današnjeg društva) "The Gun Seller", written by dragi nam (ili "mi") glumac, ex-komičar i pisac Hugh Laurie (da, to je onaj čiko što glumi Dr. Housea, da, da, je. Da. On piše i knjige, da. bang) Pa, eto toga odlomka....btw, likovi, koji se spominju u odlomku, za ovu vam priliku i nisu toliko bitni, koliko je bitna poanta cijelog odlomka...uglavnom, ukratko, poput kakve scene iz krimi filma, negativčev pomoćnik istome donosi pištolj kojim negativac kao da će priprijetiti protagonistu, no sadržaj pištolja završi negdje drugdje nego što svakodnevni čitaoc to predviđa....i nakon toga slijedi poanta....zbog koje sam ja, eto, ovako munjen i ponesen odličnošću knjige, odlučio ovdje staviti ulomak, koji će svima ovdje biti dosadan....i uz to je, pazite, na engleskom....sretan.....


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"I felt cooler air on my neck, and twisted round to see that Barnes and Lucas were standing by the door. Barnes looked relaxed. Lucas didn’t. Murdah nodded, and the two Americans stepped forward, coming each side of the sofa to join him. Facing me. Murdah held out a hand, palm up, in front of Lucas, without looking at him.
Lucas slid back the flap of his jacket and pulled out an automatic. A Steyr, I think. 9mm. Not that it matters. He placed the gun gently in Murdah’s hand, then turned towards me, his eyes widened by the pressure of some message that I couldn’t decipher.
‘Mr Lang,’ said Murdah, ‘you have the safety of two people to think about. Your own, of course, and Miss Woolf’s. I don’t know what value you place on your own safety, but I think it would be only gallant if you were to consider hers. And I want you to consider hers very deeply.’ He beamed suddenly, as if the worst was over. ‘But, of course, I don’t expect you to do it without good reason.’
As he spoke, he cocked the hammer, and lifted his chin towards me, the gun loose in his hand. Sweat spurted from the palms of my hands and my throat wouldn’t work. I waited. Because that was all I could do.
Murdah considered me for a moment. Then he reached out, pressed the muzzle of the gun to the side of Lucas’s neck, and fired twice.
It happened so fast, was so unexpected, was so absurd, that for a tenth of a second I wanted to laugh. There were three men standing there, then there was a bang bang, and then there were two. It was actually funny.

I blinked once, and saw that Murdah had handed the gun to Barnes, who was signalling towards the door behind my head.
‘Why did he do that? Why would anyone do such a terrible thing?’
It should have been my voice, but it wasn’t. It was Murdah’s. Soft and calm, utterly in control. ‘It was a terrible thing, Mr Lang,’ he said. ‘Terrible. Terrible, because it had no reason. And we must always try and find a reason for death. Don’t you agree?’
I looked up at his face, but couldn’t focus on it. It came and went, like his voice, which was in my ear and miles away at the same time.
‘Well, let us say that although he had no reason to die, I had a reason to kill him. That is better, I think. I killed him, Mr Lang, to show you one thing. And one thing only.’ He paused. ‘To show you that I could.'
He looked down at Lucas’s body, and I followed his gaze. It was a foul sight. The muzzle had been so close to the flesh that the expanding gases had chased the bullet in, swelling and blackening the wound horribly. I couldn’t look at it for long.
‘Do you understand what I’m saying?’
He was leaning forward, with his head on one side.
‘This man,’ said Murdah, 'was an accredited American diplomat, an employee of the US State Department. He had, I’m sure, many friends, a wife, perhaps even children. So it would not be possible, surely, for such a man to disappear, just like that? To vanish?’
Men were stooping in front of me, their jackets rustling as they strained to move Lucas’s body. I forced myself to listen to Murdah.
‘I want you to see the truth, Mr Lang. And the truth is that if I wish him to disappear, then it is so. I shoot a man here, in my own house, I let him bleed on my own carpet, because it is my wish. And no one will stop me. No police, no secret agents, no friends of Mr Lucas’s. And certainly not you. Do you hear me?’
I looked up at him again, and saw his face more clearly.
The dark eyes. The sheen. He straightened his tie.
‘Mr Lang,’ he said, ‘have I given you a reason to think about Miss Woolf’s safety?’
I nodded.
They drove me back to London, pressed into the carpet of the Diplomat, and chucked me out somewhere south of the river. I went over Waterloo Bridge and along the Strand, stopping every now and then for no reason, occasionally dropping coins into the hands of eighteen-year-old beggars, and wanting this piece of reality to be a dream more than I’ve ever wanted any dream to become reality.
Mike Lucas had told me to be careful. He’d taken a risk, telling me to be careful. I didn’t know the man, and I hadn’t asked him to take the risk for me, but he’d done it anyway because he was a decent professional who didn’t like the places his work was taking him, and didn’t want me to be taken there too.
Bang bang.
No going back. No stopping the world.
I was feeling sorry for myself. Sorry for Mike Lucas, sorry for the beggars too, but very sorry indeed for myself, and that had to stop. I started to walk home.
I no longer had any reason to worry about being at the flat, since all the people I’d had breathing down my neck over the last week were now breathing in my face. The chance to sleep in my own bed was just about the only good thing to come out of all this. So I strode out for Bayswater at a good pace, and as I walked, I tried to see the funny side.
It wasn’t easy, and I’m still not sure that I managed it properly, but it’s just something I like to do when things aren’t going well. Because what does it mean, to say that things aren’t going well? Compared to what? You can say: compared to how things were going a couple of hours ago, or a couple of years ago. But that’s not the point. If two cars are speeding towards a brick wall with no brakes, and one car hits the wall moments before the other, you can’t spend those moments saying that the second car is much better off than the first.
Death and disaster are at our shoulders every second of our lives, trying to get at us. Missing, a lot of the time. A lot of miles on the motorway without a front wheel blow-out. A lot of viruses that slither through our bodies without snagging. A lot of pianos that fall a minute after we’ve passed. Or a month, it makes no difference.
So unless we’re going to get down on our knees and give thanks every time disaster misses, it makes no sense to moan when it strikes. Us, or anyone else. Because we’re not comparing it with anything.
And anyway, we’re all dead, or never born, and the whole thing really is a dream.
There, you see.
That’s a funny side."

 

 

- 00:14 - Komentari (3) - Isprintaj - #


petak|01.08.2008.

|a brave new...post?! :-)
|

 

 

 

Evo, da napišem posta nakon stooo godina...

Hmmm...mda...o čemu pisati....uvijek se postavlja to pitanje....i na kraju uvijek ispadne da postoji milijun stvari o kojima mogu pisati.....
eto, tako, npr. kad već i pišem ovaj šit od posta, na blogu koji ionako nitko više ne čita, mogu spomenuti da sam konačno rješio pitanje faksa, koje sam spominjao još prije tih istih sto godina, koje spomenuh na početku posta...uh...zapletaj crijeva....obožavam to. bang
Dakle, zadnji (ili predzadnji?!) put, spomenuh da sam upisao ekonomski faksultet u Osijeku...i da mi isti pili živce i unjištafa me, jer mrzim ekonomiju...isto tako sam spomenuo da planiram na ljeto (to je sade, ovo ljeto) ponovno probati upisati nešto na filozofskom fakultetu...na filozofskim univerzitetima, hehe zubo
I tako sam u 3. mjesecu ove godine jednostavno odustao od ekonomije....nisam mog'o više, brate....doslovno mi se rigalo od statistike, računovodstva i od Karića (mikroekonomija) i njegovih klaunskih šetnji katedrom za vrijeme predavanja....Tako da sam, dakle, odustao od ekonomije....i došao kući, otkazao stan (u kojem sam stanovao s Hacom - basistom moga benda, i s njegovim burazom Perom, s kojim pohađah opću gimnaziju...Pjotre, pozdraf ako čitaš ovo sretan) umm...znači, da...dođoh kući iz Osijeka, a razlog je bio taj da ću se, KAO, početi ranije pripremati za filozofski, u 7. mjesecu....
naravno od same pripreme nije bilo skoro ništa...više sam lapio kod kuće, sisao zrak i trunuo u sobi....ali neka, treba i to... rofl
kako god da bilo i kad god da, eventually, počeo pripremu za fakultet, stigoh se, 'ajmo reć' solidno pripremiti za prijemni...probao sam upisati u Osijeku i Zagrebu na filozofskom....
u Osijeku sam probao 2 kombinacije: engleski i filozofiju, te engleski i hrvatski...nažalost, prošao sam samo na engleskom...ali sam zato prošao na prijemnom u Zagrebu
(gdje postoji samo jedan prijemni za sve predmete, osim engleskog, za koji sam morao položiti predispit). I tako se nađoh na 893. mjestu, od ukupnih (otprilike) 1150 mjesta, koliko primaju na fakultetu.
A budući da sam bio na 893. mjestu, engleski nisam uspio upisati jer je, naime, razgrabljen još u prvih 200 mjesta...no, zato sam upisao sociologiju. Jednopredmetnu. I to bez plaćanja. Meni super. rofl
Šteta zbog engleskog, ali ni ovo nije nimalo loše, jer mi je to ipak bio drugi izbor....naravno, postoji (bar tako čujem) mogućnost da iduće godine upišem i drugi predmet ako rješim ovaj prvi....
dakle, postoji mogućnost da iduće godine sociologiji dodam i taj fakin engleski, koji toliko želim studirat'. Bog (il' neš') mi pomogo....vau...kako dosadan post.....super......

Uglavnom....eto me sad kod kuće, konačno u miru...bez većih briga hoću li upisati nešto ili ostati propali student ekonomije...konačno malo uživancije ovog ljeta, bez kamenja na glavi, ramenu, srcu, bubregu, meniskusu i bilo kojem još organu, uz navedene. bangsretan
I sad, što se radi? Pa, eto, uživa se uz obilne količine glazbe (širim si fino vidike...možda i malo previše bendova odjednom, pa se ne stigne sve ni preslušat', ali nema veze...), gledaju se filmovi koje sam poskidao tijekom godine, a ne pogledao do sad,
gleda se serija Dr. House...to mi je trenutna opsesija....poskidah si sve 4 sezone i fino se utapam u tome...predobra serija thumbup....i tako...surfa se po internetima, ubija se vrijeme do gledanja Housea i pokojeg izlaska van na pivo-dva...tri...prošli vikend sam malo i pretjerao u tome...no dođoh k sebi brzo...ne valja to radit'... sretan........

Dakle, zaključilo bi se: uživam kak' spada u ovome ljetu....i boooli me nožni palac za sve....čak i za to što je ovaj post preeee effing dug....i što ga vjerojatno nitko neće ni pročitati...ionako godinu i pol' nisam ništa napisao na blogu....
tako da.....privodim ovo kraju.....dok mi zvučnike razara Ion Dissonance...mnogo vrlo jako zanimljiv bend...nešto kao Meshah, pomiješan s Discordance Axisom, i poprskan Fell Silentom. Makar to nikome ovdje ništa ne značilo....mda. bang


Eto...pozdraf svima koji čitaju...i mojoj sisterki, koja je neki dan otvorila i svoj blog, te me na neki čudan način, ne svojom voljom, ponukala da nakon milijun napišem novi post. POOOZDRAAAV, MAAAJOOOO! waverofl



i na kraju jedan citat iz knjige "Strah i prijezir u Las Vegasu" Huntera S. Thompsona:

"We are all wired into a survival trip now. No more of the speed that fueled that 60's. That was the fatal flaw in Tim Leary's trip. He crashed around America selling "consciousness expansion" without ever giving a thought to the grim meat-hook realities that were lying in wait for all the people who took him seriously... All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their loss and failure is ours too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped create... a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody... or at least some force - is tending the light at the end of the tunnel."

 

 

- 19:18 - Komentari (8) - Isprintaj - #


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