Текст песни TRIBAL FOBIA - Нет Времени

The windows of gray houses can never be opened
It's so scary to meet a new day
Carry away the clouds of dead birds in their arms
Imprisoning them in your cradle

The bad weather will continue, unheard-of shocks, unheard-of murders, unheard-of despair await us. Not the slightest improvement in the weather is foreseen anywhere, the cancer of time continues to eat away at us, all our heroes have either finished themselves off or are doing it now, therefore, the real hero is not Time at all, this is the Absence of Time. We need to keep pace, equal step, on the road to the prison of death. Escape is impossible. The weather won't change. (c) Henry Miller

A world without time
A world without a name

The windows of gray houses can never be closed
It's so scary to meet a new day
Carry away the clouds of dead birds in their arms
Imprisoning them in your cradle

Time is coiled and captured by the hourglass
Swallows up the remains of a dream
But a shattered world won't open the door for me
Closing the exit with a veil of darkness