(bene)
Čau, ty tam, niekde v ďialke, kam
teraz neviem dovidieť, ale budiš!
Ako život, ha? Furt toľko smútiš
za časmi, ktoré si nemohol zažiť?
Žiješ tie štyridsiate roky, na ktoré si toľko myslel,
keď si mal toľko čo mám teraz ja.
Aké sú štyridsiate roky, ha?
Síce o sto rokov neskôr, ale budiš!
A kokot, a ešte furt neješ mäso?
Ešte si furt ochotný obetovať spánok pre song?
Dúfam, že raz ročne navštevuješ Prešov
a s Janíkom dáš tisíc pív a ráno zhánaš Budiš.
Do reklamky ťa nestiahli ešte furt?
Stále veríš, že ťa prejde chuť,
ak to má byť na termín? Ak hej, tak big up!
A ženská ťa už ukecala na dcéru a syna?
A furt žerieš Pekove beaty jak vtedy dávno?
A keď to nahráte s Palom sa tešíte jak deti, áno?
A furt ťa desí starnutie, či to prejde časom?
A verím, že ty tam v diaľke furt ja som.

(lyrik)
Nazdar chalan, snáď si neprestal behať a prestal
chlastať, cháp, bo keď máš 35 sa prestať nedá.
A ak máš to ujkovské brucho, no tak zhoď to rýchlo,
urob tisíc klikov a daj si tisíc diétnych trikov.
Už si vymastroval recepty z tej vege knižky,
čo ti dala žena, máš na ruke furt svadobný ring, hi?
Už sú to roky tvojich dobrovoľných okov, snáď nebol
rozvod ani pohreb, bro, blízki sa dožijú sto rokov.
Múzy a pretlaky, sú tu? Máš cool crew? A z trucu
przníš kultúru, zlý vkus a s Benem plný klub? A Peko sampluje ešte starší blues jak lusk? Aj keď ste starí fotri, stále máte na túto hru chuť, hm?
A inak, chcel si byť literát, viac písať,
takže: už bola tá kniha? Ak hej, kto ti ju vydal?
Chalan, snáď stojí za to čo v sebe nosíš, dúfam, že
stále netušíš, že kto si, už musím končiť, bro, peace, mám koncík.

(sims)
Walking down the street, like I bleed concrete,
locking down my limbs, what the eyes won’t see.
Thoughts are getting deep on the Mississippi.
Spot a flock of sheep and an old man who refused to be like them,
thinking about the rising sun,
feeling like the only one,
boldly lost or boldly won.
I wrote a letter to myself, titled "you can ask for help”
signed the "future sorts itself”.
Stay woke,stay peace, stay true!
Pondering the big, let the small shake loose,
while they're shaking in their boots.
Fear is in the mind and I’m
sicker than stric-nine, clicking like a sig 9 booming.
Beautiful and bold, go for broke, stay human.
Thrash through it, smash, grab, cash ruins,
so classic, old tactics redacted, fall back, the feedback is way lacking, I see past it.
Clicking through the stations all you hear is static,
well they want to go to war, all you see is madness.
All I see is magic tell the planet drive slow,
I’m flying past, man I’m really on a roll.


___


(bene)
Hey you, there in the distance where            
I can’t quite see you in this misty morning   
How’s life, man? Are you still mourning
The times you never lived anyway?       
Still living the 40s you treasured so much   
Back in the days when you were my age   
A hundred years later your fortieth page   
Still feel the touch or are you scorning?  
Still this dick who doesn’t eat meat, though?   
Still willing to sacrifice the night for a show?   
Once a year do you still get to Prešov
and drink with Janík until the early morning?
Still haven’t been pulled into advertising?
Is there still no compromise and it’s your just
skills that you advertise? Then I raise my bid   
Has your lady already talked you into a kid?   
And do you still dig Peko's beats like you did back then           
And when you record it with Palo, are you still happy as a clam?   
Still scared of getting old, or does that pass as time passes?   
I hope you in the distance and me still have the same assets       

(lyrik)
Hey man, hope you haven't stopped running and cut the drinks
you see, when you’re 35, it’s not as easy as one thinks   
And if you carry your father’s belly you’re not very fit so       
do a thousand bends like the hopefully long gone Fico   
Have you already mastered the recipes from that vege book?   
A present by your wife, does she still have the same look?   
Years of this voluntary chain, on the same roster, hope there was no    
divorce or death bro, may our loved ones live long and prosper   
Still feeling the urge and do ideas still brew? Have a cool crew?   
Do you butcher culture, no taste like vulture, you and Bene still true?
And is Peko’s old school blues still your muse, and though
you’re old screws do assholes still end up bruised? Hm?       
By the way you always wanted to be a master of letters, do more writing    
so: where can I read your bit? Who published it? Are you still fighting?       
Boy, I hope what you carry inside is above par, I hope  
you still don’t know who you are, need to go, peace bro, I’ve got a show.