Dead Season

The city is frozen, like a wasp in epoxy resin,
Cold on the windows, like ash on a dead coal.
I wander the avenues like Dante in hell,
Here every second person is trapped in their own mental cages.
Agoraphobia, snobs, and lobotomy,
Rap is an opiate, the masses fall into lethargy.
Lines weave into loops, my flow is Ouroboros,
You asked a question, but the answer will throw you off a cliff.
The industry is a facade, behind which is decay and routine,
Every MC here is plastic, like a piece of modeling clay.
But I am an architect, my sector is a concrete redoubt,
While you were waiting for spring, your years are passing in vain.


The temperature is dropping.
Come on, step a little closer.
In this wilderness, neither cash nor a crown will save you.

Припев
This is the Dead Season! Static hits the temples.
Dead Season! Plastic across all poles.
The truth is in a coma, and hype is the new neon,
We survive by meeting our Dead Season!
(Our Dead Season!)


Charts are falling, critics are sharpening their knives,
Bugs in the matrix, but brokers ask for margins.
I construct texts like a Golem — from clay and blood,
You are on standby, but you can't buy luck here with just a word.
An era of simulacra: they even copy sorrow,
I put my own finger to my temple.
The click is the beat. I am alive among mannequins,
The dead season is just a change of the mise-en-sc;ne.
My Babylon won't fall, it went underground,
Here rhymes are like salt on an open wound, until it hurts.
I dissect time like an old surgeon,
Your hype is a flash, while I am the endless demiurge.


The temperature is dropping.
Come on, step a little closer.
In this wilderness, neither cash nor a crown will save you.

Припев
This is the Dead Season! Static hits the temples.
Dead Season! Plastic across all poles.
The truth is in a coma, and hype is the new neon,
We survive by meeting our Dead Season!


Words like bullets, bullets like a word,
Everything is for sale here, and everything is senseless.
But I'm from the foundation, I'm building an ark,
Where the dead season won't slow down my run!
An era of empty shells, events, and falsehoods,
You thought it was the finale? Let's see what's next!


Припев
This is the Dead Season! Static hits the temples.
Dead Season! Plastic across all poles.
The truth is in a coma, and hype is the new neon,
We survive by meeting our Dead Season!