LYRICS

Track_1_2 (2005 P.S.)
This is E.N.JoyAble
As long as the ocean
First - time of an album, then time of promotion
But no gigs
The touring is boring!
Instead of beeing garage, I would be rather snoring.
The Russian bear
Ain’t tear up your cushion.
The only thing we care is local distribution.
So, hello, asshole!
No changes at all.
So, long live rock-n-roll,
Film your own “Control”.
The USA and Denmark some cd-rs released,
By France we say – a bad luck – goodbye to us was kissed.
For those, who hate digital,
A cure was friendly saved.
They did their best in Germany –
And out came the tape.
So, hello, rock-n-roll!
Is it time to be small?
Playing part of asshole
No changes at all.
At home we
Just wished a real CD,
But labels all around
Turned out to be greedy.
And Monopolka us
Involved in phone jam,
But we are not the sort of people
Making harsh noise.
I’m staying at his house as a friend not as fan –
Czech porter, Jagermeister, plushy toys.

Critic
I’m musical reporter
And really do care
If best band of the quarter
Is playing “truth or dare”.
Out the way of saying
That no news is good news,
Don’t mind attenion paying:
More albums – more reviews!
If you ask me the menu of my own perfect day,
Just send me from your venue fresh singles and long-plays. (More long-plays).
I’m working as freelancer,
Not member of a crew,
At every night club bouncer
Greets me instead of you.
Traditional papers
Have put my stuff aside,
Successive in my labour –
Text posting on web sites.
If I don’t have enough cash I won’t be in great sorrow,
Salespeople after last bash let me CDs to borrow (So I’ll borrow).
I really like musicians,
As butcher likes his pork,
Their music composition
Provides me with my work.
Prefer experimenting
To playing the same shit,
Respect broke up at 20
If they still make a hit.
Myself, I’m making noise
And even playing tune,
With my deep sexy voice
Can winter turn to June.
If raw band sound milder to catch the train of glory,
Of money it reminds me and so I call it boring (This is boring).
So, I’m sitting on my own
With the music playing loud.
And my CD shelves full of promising titles.
Billboard, Rolling Stone –
I’m the king of the crowd,
Mass-media bosses fighting for my article,
Because they love me, love me, love me
I am critical!!!

Non Stars
The song sums up the bands’ effforts to get their “IsitIndia?” album reviewed. All the main Russian musical magazines took no notice of this CD. For the period of 5 years it was reviewed in Russia only three times by the Internet reporters.

Tuba New Rave Track
To my little summer house
Once moved in an English lady,
Drank away all our nouse,
Not afraid to be said shady.
Only fashionable sounds
Aired around the neighbourhood.
Local shops first time saw pounds,
Otherwise they never would.
With one item of the wind
After 5 days and a half
Neighbours asked a song to mint
Like “So Below, As Above”.
Come on and dance - ou-wau
It’s some Russian freaks attack.
Come on and dance - ou-wau
This is Tuba New Rave Track
Back to job, after vacation I am lazy & unkind
You heard Putin’s declaration?
No! God bless him! Never mind!
I’m bored, the time is passing
And I wish to kill daylight.
Then I’ll start my tuba brassing
Spending in the clubs all night.
N.E.W. – on my list to name a few
R.A.V.E. - all the girls I get for free
Country’s captured by this flow,
By a new disease’s affected:
Bears’re sleeping in the snow,
Borsch and vodka are neglected.
After visit of my friend
Life became eternal party,
Beyond borders it’ll extend –
Play this song and move your body!
To be jet set of this world
We don’t need to use guitars,
Rock is dead and stone-cold,
Only tuba’ll make us stars.
Come on and dance - ou-wau
MicroBilly Vista’s crack.
Come on and dance - ou-wau
Of the season hottest track.

The Male Song
Brought up by women over 30
I still keep behaving naughty
And can not
Resist the temptation
Of a younger female generation.
Sex with friends cursed by social limits.
But in English you call her a girl-friend,
What degree of relation she needs
More then so-called love till the end.
Do not trust to heaven said vows
And creating my own myth,
That a wife from another town
‘ll bring me forward to where she lives.
Young, weak, don’t know.
And I spent 7 years with feelings
Just composed by a rational dick,
But a student took off my heart peelings,
Afterwards she considered me weak.
So, now I’m scared of girls,
I prefer women and everyone
I meet I fly with when dreamtime falls
And then go down, down, down.
Not young, not brave, don’t know.
In their lives, you think, you appear
To correct the mistakes of the former sexmates.
You’re brute like all man, my dear –
Not opening but closing the family gates!

The Age
(Notes: In Russia when you are 27 they can not oblige you to serve in the army if there is no war. February 23 is celebrated as Fatherland Defender’s Day – conceptually the day of those who served in the army, but actually it is celebrated as Men’s Day)
Godbless, I’m 27!
That’s the age of freedom.
To escape serving in the forces
Is not the task for me now.
Will never selebrate February 23!
Don’t mess up with my fate
Your patriotic flirt!
5 years after college
10 years after high school
Acquaintances not knowledge
Now rather find cool.
Should form a band while getting education
It goes without saying, no further explanation.
Flux absorbed the friends
And turned them to the persons,
Who money earn instead of musical rehearsals.
But I still call it amazing
Their lives’ increasing speed,
The one who listened to Fugazi
Won’t bring up mall emo kid.
And this together-staying
I hope to keep it longer.
Never be torn, I’m praying
The circle I belong to.
Feel something in the air
Resembling the decay,
I’ll rather shave my hair,
Than let them become grey.
So what about taxes? Are you legally employed?
You know after axes, state jobs I avoid.
Still living with your parents?
It will sooner drive you mad.
Only within longstanding couple you can afford renting a flat.
You need more that simply partner.
Oh, thаnk you for suggestion.
The 3rd track of the 2nd album –
“The Sex Question”!
Didn’t touch ten women’s bodies
Till they’re screaming
But for 10 years never parted
With buddy-women!

Automanipulation
The track aimes at mass-media thrusting their own mode of living on people. It is compared with automanipulation, in other words, jerking.

Catch
Oh, be the one, that I can catch!
Like primeval hunted she-beast.
You want man's eyes your skirt to match
Without wishes to be kissed.
I beg your pardon, after all
I wouldn’t mind your wedding ring,
When passion’s strong, the cumber’s small,
This night I’ll be a king.
My reign is held to satisfy
Wet hair, wispers and green eyes,
When fingers touched don’t stop and cry,
It's silent bed that always lies.
Go on, accuse, I treat you tough.
I start again, believe, I dare –
Enough will never be enough
Concerned female affair.

Switch
I’m on my own,
Wanted to have a chat?
Just by the phone,
No, meetings I reject.
Tonight with music
I spend my leisure time,
I do, I choose it
Instead a friend of mine.
‘ cos people cannot stop,
Their heartbeats are so violent.
They go to the pub,
Me? Listening and silent.
Unconsciously burn the bridge,
Friends to the music I switch.
Didn’t intend but burnt the bridge,
Friends to the music I switch.
Together wuth my band
At studio got closed.
Won’t see you soon, my friend –
New album we compose.
So, don’t allure me
By having a cook out,
Don’t promise drinks for free,
Your heartbeats are too loud.
I left to play at club
In unfamiliar town.
I missed your birthday? Hum
Don’t think I let you down.
I’acting like a happy bitch
Friends to the audience I switch.
I have inside a vain bitch,
Friends to the audience I switch.
Once a girl came across
And my previous living
Put aside with no force,
I surrendered believing,
That together with her
I will be till the end,
Thus a wife may occur
And replace all the friends.
And I think that indeed,
Now found salvation,
Following the heartbeat
Full of passion.

Off
Used to send CDs abroad
Girls are leaving now my port.
What (do) they choose instead of me?
Germany and Italy.
Wanted them, but failed to share sympathy.
The lost one…
Wish their dreams will come true.
What should do –
Cut it off or still try
To get through
Unrestrainable feeling,
That the battle is lost.
Not allowed to see of planes
But do get their e-mails.
And when writing a reply,
I keep silent this my cry
Rushing out to be so loud from inside.
Lover won’t turn to a friend,
He defends,
All the sexual screams that he planned.
So, return him his freedom,
Make him part of your past.

The Words
So come on, put some words
To an empty song pocket,
And we’d like to report:
Ramones got back the rocket.
We will sing verse new
In a low voice gentle,
Track with lyrics’s for you,
It is not intstumental.
All the lyrics were born
By a bathing warm water,
By huge snacks of pop-corn
And of course by czech porter.
No poets gave
Their hints at the topic,
Inspiration’s enslaved
And we store it on floppy.
The words –
They always come easy,
If not drink to much,
Just right to be dizzy.
The words –
Like sound of trumpet
And my t-shirt says:
“entitled to be grumpy”!
The words –
They always come easy,
If your crippled self
With love stuff is busy.
The words –
Like sound of trumpet
And my t-shirt says:
“entitled to be grumpy”!
And now let us
To kiss you goodbye,
The album is done –
We can’t start it all over.
The title just proves
We told you no lie.
No future? No fun?
“Whatever”!!!
Don’t bother!

Track 1
And I hope that hello those people who may know,
Who’ve been torturing their players with our first cd-r.
Doing we post punk by tuba, bass, PC drums & some keyboards –
Experimental band from Russia, that is all, who we are.
All the necessary changes took place.
Comprehension was a problem, nowadays we’re bilingual.
You may blame we have an accent, show one who has not.
What’s the language that he uses? New York state pronunciation
And some proper English grammar - in 12 tracks you won’t be hurt.
Some punk-rockers say we’re stupid.
Why cannot they be broad-minded?!
Punk is more than simple music.
Just compare Sex Pistols with the following work of Johnny Lydon.
Chant, chant, chant (quoting PIL)

D.I.Y.
Playing la musique experimental may cause you a problem mental,
Seeking proper label to release without kneeling down on your knees.
Our promo we’ll never send to the guys afraid to offend,
Who are getting of demos piles and give a limited number of replies.
Are you calling yourself diy? Your pockets full of indie money,
This is your crime!
A foreign band who sounds strange suggests some cds to exchange
No money bullshit, no PR just cd-r to cd-r.
Our album will come in a month, yours – not in a year and a half.
We can’t get you, we should admit, but it don’t mean that you can cheat.
Are you calling yourself diy? You simply, simply let us down,
Let you die!
When everyone refused, way out is in mirror & in your purse…
Do it yourself, we know you can get placed in self-asserting trip.
When one is getting on a tour van, another lazy’s still asleep.
From nowhere to expect assistance, from lots of places – to deceive.
It’s you who’s dragging your existence out of absurd repulsive.

Scientific Masque
Of my country I’d like to fill up an intellectual supply.
Free education is the best one, who will deny?
Dreaming of postgraduate to be with every breath and moment.
How will they cope without me with the life improvement?
That is how story I begin, my supervisor says: “Come on, get in”,
To knowledge addiction, science or just fiction?
Chorus: Science or fiction? Bloody
Faking science-fiction.
Science or fiction?
It’s not science but fiction – governmental jurisdiction!!!
Articles by me should be composed – I need some publications,
And without them the way is closed to my success in dissertation.
Our magazine will take your stuff, but there’ll be no wage,
It’s you who pay 2 dollars & a half for every printed page.
Books are so dusty - I can’t breathe, but the sigh runs: “Don’t dare to sniff”,
Tired of restrictions, science or just fiction? Chorus
European colleagues come to us; we’re having a discussion,
What’s about a scientific fuss in postsoviet Russia.
Afterwards they felt so deeply shocked. “How,” – they’re demanding, -
“Can you here do this all your work with no state funding”?!
Devil, take my soul for PhD. Track’s almost done & I’m free.
True to life description like in science-fiction.

Locals Rule!
Your social status seems to increase, but who gives a fuck…
This kind of ID allows to drink in areas, where we hear, we stink
And even the traffic at once standing still, in case it is you who go up the hill.
Free drinks in the pubs, half of price to the parties –
You’re in the house, that means advertising.
Left sober underage with pretty young bodies –
Your night full of sex is not worth the license.
Your social status seems to increase,
But who gives a damn of your being proud?!
Of MTV fame you’ll never feel the breeze,
The cheapest top-model won’t let to eat her out.
You find yourself cool, the star of the town,
Your picture looks nice in the local press.
But paper is a tool, and first I sit down,
Then wipe with your portrait my taking crap ass.
Come on Mr., puke and give them some story,
In every girl’s dream your last topless dance.
Receiving a few new marks of your glory,
They shout or scream – it rather depends.
You’re driving your car and playing music loud,
From capital so far this dirty local town.
Behaving as jet set and even cursing loud,
But, please, do not forget, you’re living in a town.
In town, man, not in the city,
In town, man, you really need it?

Cooking Scheme
You’ll meet him in McDonalds, he is in KFC,
In every Dunkin Donuts you’re sure him to see,
You’ll meet him in a sea buffet, he is in Taco Bell,
Most likely to make muffins or burgers, I can tell.
He’s moving so slow and pacing all around,
Like quiet waters flow, don’t know how to bound.
“I need!” – the waiter’s crying, he keeps his ears shut.
The dishes clients’re buying, he plays his own part.
Give me some chicken! I need the salads!
Where are my burgers?!! What’s with the frech fries?!!
He opens first the fridge door and gets some frozen stuff,
A package or just two more – don’t know what’s enough.
They call his actions “cooking” – reheating in the oil.
Big bellies are good-looking, that’s healthy – none’s puking.
Have more fast food turmoil!

Dead but Healthy
(Due to Russian laws all the boys from 18 till 28 are obliged to serve in the army.
One of the legal ways to escape it is to have some disease, but doctors often are reluctant to admit that one unfits)
The crunch in my knees is simply annoying, it is high time to visit a doctor,
Let’s clear out what disease is destroying, is the case slight or really fucked up?
In Latin doc writes like a medieval usher – I should grab my knees & prepare for the x-ray.
In Moscow, Kursk and all over Russia a person in charge is sure to say:
- Are you sent by a military registration office?
- No, I came on my own.
Your answer has closed to the sick men’s world gate, no maladies, boys, till 28!
Healthy but dead, healthy & dead,
They send your corpse to army without regret.
Sound & strong as bull and the horses,
One is always healthy to serve in the forces.
House of pain’s jumping dance in my stomach, that’s a good chance to say “hi” to physician.
Ulcer we put as the name of this drummer, but diagnosis soon may become artificial.
He says you’re unfit but put cash in my pocket, I’m yelling I’m sick, this is not an illusion.
Quack caught his offence & got out mocking:
“You’ll have come again,” – was his fucking conclusion.
Per year two times caused by the avid conclusion,
In hospital bed due to the stupid conclusion.
Deserves a kiss of mommy the doc who helped the army!!!
Doctors are not guilty, it is clear, But the state’s lack of soldiers interferes.
Hope this song will be out of date, pray, pray to be out of date!

Newly Divorced
Don’t care about you! It’s me who full of hatred!
If wedding is God’s dew divorce is not less sacred.
I while away my life as one part of this couple.
Let me cut off by knife “is” from “missis Guble”.
The contract is too hard I have a copy for ya.
Oh, thanx, you’re so smart and see you at my lawyer’s.
He knows well his art and we will robe you out –
Flat, car and the major part of your own bank account.
I hear people laugh, I wonder what’s funny?
If money don’t waste us, then we will earn the money.
Selling out love like stickers with Buggs Bunny,
The marriage is a way to spend & earn some money
I’d never take the trouble if known what it costs
Think I’m getting poor but I’m newly divorced.
I woke up in the morning to reveal what I had lost,
Emotionally poor but I’m newly divorced.
Divorce, divorce. Now it’s better or worse?
And hope in our lives the only time it was.
Divorce, divorce. Who’s better? Who’s worse?
In building up new families, wish, we’ll make more scores.
E.N.JoyAble is facing the divorce result.
Adore the band’s former members,
I think that line-up’s cult.
You’ve left and that’s why I’m feeling like a wally.
The end of track. Good bye, Valery G. and Holly.

E-mail Urge
I use my modem to connect to virtual promotion,
It’s Alex Bell whom I respect for technical devotion.
And here’s sparkling, white & blue my famous mailing server,
Reply I waited for all week through, hope not to do it further.
Alas, it happened – zero new messages in my inbox!
They might keep their egos mute, rejecting me, who knocks.
You sent your message one more time, another week passed, you got no reply.
Of getting e-mails all are fond, so take the trouble to respond!
If I’m writing to you, then I need this information,
To asswhole’s polit’ correct silence prefer an honest confrontation!!!
We thank the ones, who sent the answers, if even telling us, we suck.
For silence keepers we announce:
Wish you a messageless inbox
Just right until you bark.
If you’ll something get from hotmail.com pinia_@,
There’s no reason to alarm –
It’s something worth replying but sure not a spam.

Prohibition of Ballyhoo
A clumsy figure of a little girl, a big, even huge, severe world,
Hippopotamuses in ballet slippers and maybe something, are saying your lips, is “yes”.
It’s necessary to catch the moments:
A whiff of the breeze, a fine taste of the cheese.
It’s unique, when near your ear the foam from your bath whispers,
It’s similarly to the first kiss.
Chorus in Russian about dark glasses and torn to pieces jeans
A yellow light appears everywhere, I can’t see it, it’s so bewitching,
That I am lost. It’s the most, it’s the most.

Sneer of Reality
Trample down…tread in fling mud…I’m echo…echo, echo…
Gulp down sobs to feel the splash, it’s unlikely in second.
A fib, any fib is always silly past time, And feel cheap deplete,
It can’t be for a last time. Last time, last time I deem,
I can’t be for a last time.
It’s hailing, non-stop hailing, unbidden & unpleasant.
I thought that you’re married and had removed your message.
I thought that I had acted correctly and fairly,
Alas, it all turned out an undertaking for me.
Verse in Russian about heart and vodka with pepper

Urban Fauna
A homeless cat, a place to industrialize,
A hydrogen drop just slight above the eyes.
And every school-kid’s seeing,
The creature moves towards nonbeing.
Empty street, dog’s barking in the night,
Wet underwear, stuck gripped by fright.
Pounds of the flash, the jaws will devour,
The relatives will send his widow a flower.
Autumn sky, birds’re increasing speed,
They shit on our heads, but we don’t give a shit.
Urbanisacivilisation states:
“You’ll get placed in the zoo with one of female mates”.
Among the horns of traffic and screaming of the whores
Animals & men wage their city wars.

Boycott
Our protest to the fact of shutting down "Programma A" - a TV program about independent music. We appeal not to watch the channel the bosses of which have done it!
Three Letters
"3 letters" that's how politely called a Russian curse word "huy" (dick) but here the USA are meant. But it's not an anti American song. Instead, it's vs. wrong ideas about "dream country USA" which are widely spread in our modern society.
A Sex Question
A shade of a feminist song, girls' problems, but not riot grrrrls, text by Pinia anyway.
What Are Bayan-Players Singing About?
"Bayan" is a drug addicts slang for "squirt" so "bayan-players" are drug addicts. Some VIPs can encourage taking drugs, but later when they're cured & clean the same folks say they're against drugs. Our conclusion: don't listen to anyone, it's you who decide.
Ho-Ho
Written by Rowland S. Howard & Genevieve Mc Guckin from The Birthday Party. Can someone tell us what is it about?
Out of Luck
Examples how a looser doesn't care of being out of luck.We're quoting Beck a bit here.
Winter
The worst season for us: sniffing, coughing, broken bones, cold & 5 months of real time winter instead of 3 due to the calendar. Here is the line "Ian MacKaye is not playing hockey".
On the Wave Crest
A guy drinks, his girlfriend is depressed waiting him to change & starts to drink herself. "To blue" is slang for "to drink", associations with a blue sea water, "surfing on the wave crest" alcoholics are meant.
Some Geography
An enumeration of funny titles of the villages from Kursk to Novorossiisk.
A Vulgar Waltz
A guy is trying to tempt a married woman. A completely not serious song.
Intro, Intro2
A story written by W. Burroughs, where a man taught his ass to speak & how it killed him. The cry after Intro:''To the wards!!!''
The Song about Songs
Just meditations on the themes of the songs: written & unwritten.
I Wanna Be A President's Wife
A secondary school graduate, being constantly asked what he wanna be, declares he wanna be a president's wife. It's kinda "get lost", no definite president is meant. All the effect is based on a s/t refrain produced by male voice - anyway, we are heterosexuals.
Clouds
Pinia's vision starts with differently shaped clouds & goes to the Earth turning into a cloud. The refrain is a cursing mockery at a childish song about clouds.
Chicks under 16, What a Fuck Are You?
A teenager's experience who meets girls dating only with goddemn motherfuckers bot not with punks.
Spring
A bold description of the second season of the year. "Vesna - krasna" - that's the stuff for you to sing.
The Road To You
The dismal reflection of a guy, who hopelessly in love is trying to find the way to his beloved.