O.S.T.R. - Miejska Ślepota

Judged through the prism of gestures towards the surroundings,
you think the truth is on the surface.
In dark memories, there is no room for friends;
you are alone with your conscience.
The reflection in the mirror laughs in your face,
and why? It's not a matter of the system that highlights sins.
Rules of life fade away like coins.
The appetite for them grows, and I'm at odds with myself...

Chorus x2
...judged through the prism of gestures towards the surroundings...
...look at how much hatred...
...the meaning isn't in cash...
...damned ordinary bitter world...

0:29, the glow of the streetlights brightens the way
I do what I can to keep my form in life
I think to myself - how many more years will the world drag this misery?
Will the chain of constant wishes ever break?
Why the hell push on me that everything is beautiful - think
to what extent can you understand both sides of this game
when instead of tender words - shattered nerves
look at the faces - no discovery
life drawn on them
torment and pleas to hit the right chords
our time on earth
millions of problems that can't be changed
trapped within themselves, I know such people,
for meanings nothing like rhythm allows moving forward
just take a look at Łódź
when some are consuming an orgy
others at the very bottom crowd around stations
hoping for a modest portion
what irritates them - the smell?
discards the fact of living in this place
please, not everything has to be in color
everyone has the right to dream
and only death can take it from us
it can't be expressed more simply

Chorus x2
...judged through the prism of gestures towards the surroundings...
...look at how much hatred...
...the meaning isn't in cash...
...damned ordinary bitter world...

Hey, lend a cigarette - across from me, a stranger
a worn green jacket and brown pants
a glance in the eyes - no words needed, he's unemployed
look how much noise is around money
touch the world of real struggles,
free from games
easy girls, parties
worse and better
enough of passive people
faithful to their ideals every day
I see it in passersby
the whole animal farm
zero contact with worse
don't say you don't know
and still at stations we shit in the same toilet
easy to mislead
keeping away from human flaws
though the same fear has stuck with us
and rudeness pushes to stand out
from an ordinary prostitute
as if everyone has their own plan
I give the city the rest
it will judge itself
the faces of those already destined to wander
and with each day it's harder to bounce back from the bottom

Chorus x2
...judged through the prism of gestures towards the surroundings...
...look at how much hatred...
...the meaning isn't in cash...
...damned ordinary bitter world...

Life flows like a film of memories
collar raised on the neck
to see as little of the world as possible
so as not to have to explain
for others' wrongs, numbers
which in reality no one will sweep up
while for others time passes slowly
moment after moment
dissolves in the mouth like a Gyros
for others a pick axe sticks to their hands
who knows why
you won't change anything by crying
problems with work - what role to play
to seize the world of elites
for some smuggling
for others leftovers from political guts
surprised - how is it?!
one in a thousand got lucky after all
and still blindness engulfs the city
a forest of hands in pleas
to survive till tomorrow
when the fashion, signs a contract
others at stations
with life in a shopping bag
only asking for a złoty
through a hole in the jacket their whole belongings are visible
and the pain of mistakes over life
love for life
to mark one's strength in life

Chorus x2
...judged through the prism of gestures towards the surroundings...
...look at how much hatred...
...the meaning isn't in cash...
...damned ordinary bitter world...