Правильные люди тоже знают с кем тусить) Действительно приятно за рыжую бестию,особенно в свете затишья новостей о долгожданном дебютном творении королевы мира всего)

Спасибо, послушем

я вообще не понял, чего это было то? 

хватит уже. сольник хачу!

Забавно, но мне понравилось. Ага
У этого Коннелли голос такой необычный. F&E - Part 1 ближе ко второй минуте начала напоминать мне Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. И вообще музыка такая атмосферная, жуткая, и родные голоса была рада услышать, Ширли особенно. Ее голос на фоне такой музыки как-то иначе звучит.
Только содержание монологов не понравилось. А так очень даже =)

А о чём содержание, Лерка?

бормотание Ширли:

This is sand just like centuries
When all is forgiven
Still raining from the hourglass
Round like a lens in the sun
As the competition marches
Point blank to your zero
The circling hunger
Just howls like an audience
Try to determine each weight of each cry
Each muscle of language
Too tired to communicate
No longer exiled
But your will – it remains so
Prone, like an X in the sand
Defying any water to fall on this land
The dulled overview presents only spectres of a life
Red, Adriatic, Caspian, Dead –
Move like the ghosts of the dead air
Measured steps, and fatal betrayal
This is sand from centre
Curved fracture of the world
The steam tht lies beneath the sea
The broken window passage
Glass reflection of the landscape
These are more than injured times
The tidal inches towards total
The tide inclined where it can’t find
Time slipped in fractured world
Hidden by curls of steam
They trace out the map of affliction
And it matches the city’s disguise
Now owned by the frightened in the margins
Bathing their fear in the space between storms
The chorale that you breathe to
The chorale that you breathe against
Walks out of the air
And undresses in front of you
Triumph and funeral
Ghost of the air
Wretched crippled clothes
Decorate iron dark water
Ophelia’s opposite
With a blue black grin
The stars, and the last of the electric light
Pick out and reverse the features
Gluttony of theatre
Blue black and grinning again
Hand claw attack pose
Like the monger just froze
Flat against frame
The background to paintings
Skill of the pardons
You will not hear again
The sutures’ unreason
But they punctuate skin
Illustrating the fracture of world
No more severe skies
No more air
As the insects multiply & ignite
No more air
No more air
No more air