Race for Success, or The Negative Selection songs

Race for “Success”, or The Negative Selection

Chorus:
Nerves stretched to the limit —
You’re chasing that summit.
Since childhood the sprinting —
No place for the Subtle.

No place for the Sensitive:
Dig deeper — it’s primitive.
They powder the lie —
You swallow it dry,

For racing will cover
The traps you discover.
The thoughtful, the clearer
End up in the rear.

Chorus

No place for the Reasoned
In worlds that are seasoned
With dullness and dread:
A minus — you’re dead.

A pyramid order:
The scum rising toward her,
Below — the insane,
Still thicker their brain.

Chorus

No place for the honest.
A sorrowful chronicle
Turns “victories” grim
To legends for him.

No place for the Noble —
Bearers of global
Bright, fiery speech;
In madhouse they screech.

No place for your striving —
A slave-world conniving.
If friends you’re not seeking,
But Light — though it’s leaking,

Then racing is slaughter
Selecting the rotten,
So Meaning is buried,
The foolishness — carried.

The world grows more vacant,
Deranged as the vagrant.
A mad serf’s the norm —
A plague in full swarm.

Chorus

Step out of the race —
A cliff’s in your face:
A coming collapse
Will sweep the dumb maps.

Then Light will remain —
All else is insane.
Say “no” to their quest —
Find Light’s hidden crest.



---------------------



Propagandists and Police

A nasal drone of endless lies
Pours into slaves’ distracted ears.
While watchful cops, with eager eyes,
Defend the chains and stoke the fears.



---------------------



Like "Rolling Blackouts"

The "fan" has failed—dark hours loom,
Cold bites, no warmth to chase the gloom.
A foolish land, beneath dogs' reign—
A pack unmatched in spite and pain.



---------------------



The Mind’s Gangrene

The gangrene’s rot consumed the mind,
Three-fourths of reason lost, confined.
And Russia fell beneath them all,
Where fools on fools their ranks enthrall.

The bottom proved by CowID and war,
By lies that cripple evermore.
Three-fourths of folks, deceit has stained,
Their hollow heads with falsehoods chained.



---------------------



Fools, Both Rustic and Modern

"It snowed and snowed across the land,
Through all its reaches.
A candle burned upon the stand,
A candle burned…"
But no, it wasn’t just a flame—
The chandelier was blazing!
The executioner’s glasses gleamed,
Their sharpness truly dazing".
Alexander Galich, "In Memory of Pasternak", 1966


No need for hangmen now, you see—
Just triple all the lies,
And fools will rush, quite zealously,
To build camps where truth dies.

A modern Camp will soon arise—
How very high-tech!
A "People" with dull, vacant eyes
Will bow beneath its wreck.

The rustic fools once cried for whips,
A priest, a spy, a guard;
Their heirs now digitize their scripts,
Oppression masked, yet hard.

CowID, war—a madhouse grows,
The chaos ever crueler.
The masses molded into crows—
Here Hell shall be the ruler.

Perhaps a global cataclysm
Will cleanse and start anew,
But for now, blunt fascism
Bites fools with venom "true"...



---------------------



The Darlings of the Global Rotten Play, or Tolerasty and HUMUSism

"Humanitarian ideals abound,"
They preach, but lies their core surround.
Just empty slogans, falsely pure—
Obedience cloaked as overture!

The days of CowID made it clear,
What this "humusism" holds dear.
Through tolerasty, like a worm,
You'll squirm and serve a fascist term.

But those who stand, unbowed, apart,
Pose danger to this humus art.
The "humus people," dulled and weak,
Fall deep into a cretin's streak,

Like cushions catching flames' descent,
To soften blows that fires sent.
Oh, darlings of the global fraud,
Where lies and cowardice applaud!



---------------------



Darkness

Shame and vile, the air feels grim,
Satan rules where God in dream.
Not a people, but a herd,
Smart minds stifled, dreams deferred.
Press of fools cuts deep inside,
No light pierces dark’s divide...



---------------------



Rams and Their New Armor

Our armor’s strong, our tanks are swift in motion,
A mad commander drives us to the fray.
And spirits flow like water — such devotion,
To die for nothing, eager anyway.

For nothing — yes, to slaughter fools, they’re sending,
We do not know the cause, nor question why.
Each generation meets the same grim ending,
Like lambs to slaughter, led by beasts, we die.



---------------------



Total Evil

"Change" arrives—a veil of lies,
The world now teems with fear and noise.
Betrayal thrives, and truth denies,
While fragile Souls meet their demise.

The mind, subdued and stripped of grace,
Becomes the toy of darkened schemes.
With each new generation's race,
The intellect sheds weight, it seems.

And soullessness, now commonplace,
Declared the norm with zealous pride.
CowID revealed its heartless face,
While Shame is broadcast far and wide.

The soulless bask in Evil's reign,
Its grip extends where none can flee.
No shelter shields from growing pain—
If blind and deaf, you’re lucky, see...







---------------------



The Tragicomedy of Perception

"Life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think."
— Jean de La Bruy;re, 17th century


This tragicomedy is Plight —
A thought without a feeling’s dry,
No warmth of passion, not a spark,
But feel too much — you're bound to lie.

Awake, a fool, in endless dreams,
To strike the balance. We hav't chance,
Because the earth is lost in schemes,
Drowned deep in shabby decadence.



---------------------


Answer

"Man is a rational creature, yet this does not apply to mankind."
— Raymond Aron.


Are you rational or not?
Give yourself the honest thought.
For the crowd, with blind decree,
Leads the way to misery.

Fools march forward, rank and file,
Soon to tread their final mile.
To the "New Camp" they will stray,
Where no labor marks decay—

Only "care" will bring the end:
One quick jab, they will pretend
You’re no foe to slaves they breed.
Will Bedlam grasp this twisted creed?

No, and Raymond Aron’s right:
Rotting is the law they write.
Monsters rule, and thus we see—
Soon the Mind shall cease to be.



---------------------



Pseudo-Life

"We've divided life from death and filled the gap between them with fear. Yet life without death does not exist."
Jiddu Krishnamurti


There is no life, nor death, just fear—
A shadow stretching far and near.
Believe the soul that mourns in plight:
This world is dust, bereft of light.

From dust to dust, all dreams confined,
A pseudo-life for humankind.
But soon the Sun will pierce the shade—
To free the souls in darkness swayed.







---------------------



The World of Filth and Its Negative Selection

Awareness of slavery —
The first step from this Mire.
Tyranny dulls the bravery,
Crushes almost all fire.

With a mob of fools to guide,
It's easy to command.
By selecting those who lie,
And slaughter by their hand.

Ugliness rules the councils,
Brutes in power prevail.
Few noble souls hold balances,
In any sphere, they fail.

This thinning line of virtue,
Pressed by lies and decay,
Fades under devil's virtue,
As darkness takes the day.

Generations, deformed,
Fall as beasts, step by step.
The rot deepens, transformed —
What remains but regret?

Once you see, don’t enable
Schemes of beasts; make a stand.
Block their lies, if you’re able,
Keep your Spirit at hand.

Soulless beasts and their masses,
Caught in deceitful tides,
Will perish as time passes,
When catastrophe strikes.

And this reckoning’s nearing,
No, it’s already here.
No need for corpses leering,
Unburied graves draw near.

Let the dead fill the earth’s maw,
But the Spirit takes flight.
Gather strength for this last law,
If you're still in the Light.

Renew your Soul through vision,
Let it guide your ascent.
Break away indecision,
Cut loose what’s hell-bent.

Sever ties with the ballast,
Prepare wings to unfold.
For today marks the malice —
And their doom lies foretold.




---------------------



Do not reason?

Do not reason? -
Have a prison:
Get a "five",
If not live.



---------------------



The Bespectacled and Their Crafted "Isms"

The professor’s full of empty chatter,
Yet the essential slips his gaze.
Our Souls, the heart of every matter,
Are trampled in his cold-eyed ways.

He clings to atheistic blather
Or feigned religion’s hollow creed.
Both lead to chaos. "Isms" gather
And drag the world to darker deeds.

The Spirit’s wiped from false convictions—
Their "science" seeks to blur the lines.
A pastime born of contradictions,
It plagues us, hollow, by design.

This "science" now a sickness festers;
Its cure, though urgent, none allow.
For those who pay will shun dissenters
And, tyrant-like, suppress the how.



---------------------



Building Bedlam

A sense of safety,
We must dismiss,
To cloud all Clarity,
And build Abyss.



---------------------



The "mindset" of a degrader

Bones unbroken,
Muscles slack,
Yet my "thoughts"
Stay on track:
Grab a larger slice and thrive—
In this world, the slim do not  survive.



---------------------



Askew and Ajar

With scarce reaction I will greet
The so-called "change" that days reveal.
They're bleak. And Prophets I not meet —
The time for idiots to kneel.

Bend your own path with stubborn hand,
And pin your hopes on blindest chance.
Yet chance, that trickster, roams the land
To leave things askew in its grim dance.







---------------------



Distrust "nature"

"Man's biological nature is such, that reason cannot always guide his behavior."
Raymond Aron.


Distrust "nature" — on fools she plays,
Her rest lies in their flaws concealed.
The world is mad, and not in jest;
When Spirit falls, the Abyss is revealed.

It's not cold reason that inspires,
But Spirit pure that leads us through.
Though now you burn in hellish fires,
Stand strong in Spirit, not subdue.



---------------------



Like "homeland"

"The Motherland hears,
The Motherland knows,
Her son in the clouds,
Where he flies, where he goes".
Evgeny Dolmatovsky, 1950.


But "Motherland" now feels a shadowed disguise,
Its truth just a thought, fading under the skies.

The world is in madness,
A fascist refrain,
"Homeland" now echoes
In camps full of pain.

A fragile old barrack
Attentive it seems,
If lies find their balance
To cradle our dreams.



---------------------


The way "up"

Piter’s dad is a math PhD,
But in life, he’s as soft as can be.
While the dimwits, so sly and pragmatic,
Climb to the "top" through chaos dramatic.



---------------------



The hopeless world

The world at its end:
So bleak, diar friend.
No hope to pursue:
To hope is to rue.



---------------------



The best assistant in the Hell

Madness lends its aid.
The soul may start to fade,
But that's the smallest care—
Hell's simple in its snare.



Video with songs: https://youtu.be/bjl4g3KdQqs