Soul of a Partisan

I have already written about this. But this is a sacred needle!
From eyes smeared across the ceiling as if across the sky. Like a shot from oblivion.
I constantly doubt whether this is me or not me anymore.
Was I there or haven’t been there yet, you’re wondering in vain. Where the moon is a round wild stone and calls: come to me, my joy!
Well, I’m surprised, like I’m surprised at the mystery.
When you speak into a crowd, this stinking accumulation of mass of life, you feel like a massage therapist.
I'll crush you with a wild voice without any goat rhymes,
trailer of the future, the blind leading the blind.
I’ll sing you a rather strong song. It contains only dirty, stupid thoughts and the whispers of the stars.
Life is a tax deduction. Day after day, year after year.
Subtract. like calculating how much is left. Crazy without a dose. You unharness yourself like a crooked freak.
It’s kind of self-explanatory: coming, going, going... and no questions.
I'm looking for shelter. From the men in black. And those from me, in turn.
Their rajah is irritated: I asked to be thrown into the air! Like I wanted to fly as an aviator.
There are no instructions for you. Only execution. Like Thor.
You're still lucky. Today it was released. I am kind...
The man, as usual, has nothing to do with it. The hand of fate led him, drunk, into his ass.
Whose name is rock'n'roll. Laughter bent.
He always instinctively strived for a change in life, such as a change in milestones.
For departure to Medellin. Where everyone should visit at least once. It's best with a friend. Bow to Noriega. To lean into his hand, like to lean into...
There's an attempt at rebellion in bandages! Is there a difference between us and them? Then what the hell?
Are we screaming because they don't notice us?
...Moscow 'disses' had a special knock on the door. I was taught the right faith -hang out a special banner of freedom on a holy day.
It was wonderful! The cops were delighted.
Are you having a delay?
Why are you so angry today? I understand that the soul of a partisan lives inside you...
So I struggled with the icon, like the face of death - the children were burdened...
Door peephole shot!: where are you, asks the night.
Fear is something you reserve for yourself, to help you...
...Enough of the absurd lyrics: HE passed us again without touching us, with mysterious facial expressions.
And the circles on the water caught up with each other indifferently.
It's like no one has ever been here.
But only HIS soul and together with it are our partisan souls.