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Propaganda




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Альбом Propaganda


A Secret Wish (1985)
1985
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* poem by American writer Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849).


Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?


Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

. . .


I
I've been a victim of your love
like many before, so many before
You
you strangled me with all your charms
I yearned for more, I'm yearning for more

I'm charging you with murder
the fire of love's dying down
but in the face of the verdict
I'm feeling all jealousy drown
plead for mercy

You
you've been convicted by a kiss
you share too much, you share too much
I
I was a witness of your crime
Now I'm the judge, I am the judge

I'm charging you with murder
the fire of love's dying down
but in the face of the verdict
I'm feeling all jealousy drown
plead for mercy

I'm charging you with murder
the fire of love's dying down
but in the face of the verdict
I'm feeling all jealousy drown

I'm charging you with murder
the fire of love's dying down
but in the face of the verdict
I'm feeling all jealousy drown

I'm charging you with murder
the fire of love's dying down
but in the face of ....

. . .


ONE TWO THREE FOUR


Eye to eye stand winners and losers
Hurt by envy, cut by greed
Face to face with their own disillusion
The scars of old romances still on their cheeks
And when blow by blow the passion dies sweet little death
Just have been lies the memories of gone by time
Would still recall the lie

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding i start screaming

It's too late the decision is made by fate
Time to prove what forever should last
Whose feelings are so true as to stand the test
Whose demands are so strong as to parry all attempts
And when blow by blow the passion dies sweet little death
Just have been lies the memories of gone by time
Would still recall the lie

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder
The third will have you on your knees
You start screaming i start bleeding

The first cut
The second cut
The third cut

Ah!

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding, i start screaming
The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding I start screaming.

. . .


Eye to eye stand winners and losers
hurt by envy, cut by greed
Face to face with their own disillusions
The scars of old romances still on their cheeks.
And when blow by blow
the passion dies sweet little death
just have been lies.
Some memories of gone by times would still recall the lies.

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder.
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding I start screaming.

It's too late the decision is made by fate
Time to prove what forever should last.
Whose feelings are so true as to stand the test?
Whose demands are so strong as to parry all attempts?
And when blow by blow
the passion dies sweet little death
just have been lies.
Some memories of gone by times will still recall the lies.

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder.
The third will have you on your knees

You start bleeding I start screaming.

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder.
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding I start screaming.

The first cut won't hurt at all
The second only makes you wonder.
The third will have you on your knees
You start bleeding I start screaming.

. . .


one box for optimism
forget the world, take this break
and dance

the drums are stained with blood
don't look at this disaster
if you want my advice, take this break
and dance

sweet secret sense of sin
sweet secret sense of rhythm
sweet secret sense of sin
sweet secret sense of rhythm

if your pure emotions
ich fuerchte keine Einsamkeit [I fear no loneliness]
provoke these frozen faces
es gibt keine Warmherzigkeit [there is no warm-heartedness]

take this break and dance

you can't stay away from this
you listen to this hellish crash
you can't stay away from this
the war has just begun

frozen faces can always melt
sweet secret sense of sin

frozen faces can always melt
push this echo in the outside world
sweet secret sense of sin
one box for optimism
forget the world

sweet secret sense of sin

sweet secret sense of sin
push this echo in the outside world
sweet secret sense of sin
frozen faces can always melt again

. . .


Motor
Power - force - motion - drive
Power - force - motion - drive
Power - force - motion - drive
Power - force - motion - drive
Propaganda

On joyless lanes we walk in lines
a calm but steady flow.
Accompanied by loud commands
our strength is running low.

Another hope feeds another dream
another truth installed by the machine.
A secret wish the marrying of lies
today comes true what common sense denies.

Rotating wheels of destiny inflame the city lights.
Machines call out for followers far out into the night.
The calls of the machines drowning in the steam.

Another hope feeds another dream
another truth installed by the machine.
A secret wish the marrying of lies
today you find is true what common sense denies.

The calls of the machines drowning in the steam.
On joyless lanes we walk in lines
a calm but steady flow.
Our strength is running low.

Another hope
another dream
another truth
installed by the machine
installed by the machine.

. . .


It took ten years to realize
Why the angel stopped crying
When you sail on down the lane
Your happy smile, your funny name
It's so hopeless to define
When you jump to close the blinds
You know i'd help you if i could but
Both my arms are made of wood

I just don't mean the things that i say
It's only cause you're made that way
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening

When we grooved on into town
Charles atlas
Stopped to frown
Cause he's not made like me and you
Just can't do the things we do

I'm not being mean so don't take it hard
When i ask you to run round the yard
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening

At times like these you don't have to say
So sorry it turned out that way
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening
Sorry for laughing
There's too much happening

. . .


Why does it hurt when my heart misses the beat?

The man without shadow promises you the world
Tell him your dreams and fanatical needs.
He's buying them all with cash.

Sell him your soul - sell him your soul - sell him your soul
Never look back - never look back.
Sell him your soul - sell him your soul
Never look back
Never look back - never look back
Sell him your soul

He's devoted to the devil fascinated by crime
Glamorous death is his destination - eternal passion his gain.

Sell him your soul - sell him your soul - sell him your soul
Never look back - never look back
Sell him your soul - sell him your soul
Never look back
never look back
Sell him your soul - sell him your soul
never look back.

Why does it hurt? - Why does it hurt?

He's a satanic gambler but you just the fool
And you've already lost the chance of your lifetime.
So don't be a fool - don't be a fool.
Kein Zurueck fuer dich - there's no way back
sell him your soul.

(backwards:)
Warum schmerzt es
Warum schmerzt es
Wenn mein Herz den Schlag verpasst?

Don't be a fool
never look back.

. . .


Chasing after passing visions

Chasing after passing visions
and traces buried by the tide

Chasing after passing visions
and traces buried by the tide
hunting for the bygone picture
reviving phantoms of the past
hunting for a bygone picture

chasing after passing visions
of this magic of your touch
and traces buried by the tide
your secret smile, I can't forget

chasing after passing visions
we could turn back the pointers of the clock
and traces buried by the tide
oh if I could and if you would

. . .


Is all that we see or seem
but a dream within a dream?

. . .


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