Текст и перевод песни Furio djunta feat. Mali Mire - Pocasna Loza

Pocasna Loza

Mi smo loža, koja se zove Regularna velika loža Srbije
Koja tu regularnost imamo
Kad se održava taj ritualni rat, Biblija, ili sve, zakon
Sveto pismo, mora da bude otvoren
I treba da postoje
Da su javno izložena takozvana ta tri velika svetla
A tri velika svetla masonerije su

Milion sati da iskleše se Sfinga
Iza čijih kapaka vrišti enigma
Sedim na njenom nosu i pevam refren
Na horizontu čekaju nas Keops i Kefren
Dve kamile, ja i Maradona
Vetar smrdi na znoj faraona
Pljujemo pesak, nemi kao karijatide
Dok posmatra nas oko sa vrha piramide
Pustinja, nas dva princa Egipta
Milenijume starije od milanskog edikta
O nama zabranjene knjige čit'o je Konstantin
Klanjamo se suncu kao jedinoj konstanti
Zbog sunca naše mozgove truje paranoja
Dok negde daleko na zapadu raste sekvoja
Palacaju jezikom krokodili iz Nila
Mi smo preteča svih indijanskih nargila
Mi smo preteča, preteča svih preteča
Mi smo preteča svih partizanskih gerila
Dok proroci sa zenicama boje kože pralja
Najavljuju nedelju rođenja novog kralja
Mi smo tu (tu) da ostanemo
Dok ne izgori nam epiderm, dok ne postanemo
Zlatni pepeo u spaljenom drvlju
Papirus natopljen krvlju
Nemi od besa jer naša veličina
Biće prepoznata tek kada postanemo prašina
Veština sa dletom, za pristup karavanu
Dok mesec obasjava našu fatamorganu

Mi smo pesnici u pustinji u potrazi za rečima i taktom
Arhitekti apstraktnog
Istina i mitovi, reči, bitovi
Mistici traže utočište u lingvistici
Pesnici u pustinji u potrazi za rečima i taktom
Arhitekti apstraktnog
Istina i mitovi, reči, bitovi
Mistici traže utočište u lingvistici

Mi smo organizacija od koje strepi cela nacija
Kapuljače na glavama, mračna konotacija
Ti dobaci nam rispekt za viteški red
Ubaci sekiru u med i budi batica
Svaka frakcija deo je celine
Koja vidi sve i rep krije iza bine
Pravi primer kako do te visine jer svi vide
Oko na vrhu piramide, u pohod idem
U Solomonov hram, po Sveti Gral
Jako dobro znam potomke Atlantide
Ja sam zidar, zidam istoriju preko bita
Kol'ko god da sam bitan, ja sam cigla iz zida
Zbog višeg cilja, idem preko svojih apetita
Gazim hiljade milja, i za vas imam svitak
Na kome ugovor je pisan, ne smem da kažem ništa
Čuje se samo vrisak
Jer mi smo tajna loža, odmah da se naježi koža
Od lobanja, mraka, sveće, zlata i noža
Kroz tajni prolaz u podzemne kanale
Do glavne odaje prolaze rituale
Neke bratske šale, repove serviram
Duh nam je nemiran, vrhovni neimar svemira
Krv, suze i znoj moram da prolijem za veliki Orijent
Svi čaše u vis pa spusti dole da dolijem

Ja sam veliki majstor Regularne velike lože Srbije

Mi smo pesnici u pustinji u potrazi za rečima i taktom
Arhitekti apstraktnog
Istina i mitovi, reči, bitovi
Mistici traže utočište u lingvistici
Pesnici u pustinji u potrazi za rečima i taktom
Arhitekti apstraktnog
Istina i mitovi, reči, bitovi
Mistici traže utočište u lingvistici

Dishonorable Lodge

We are the lodge that's called the Regular Grand Lodge of Serbia
What kind of regularity do we have
When this ritual war is going on, the Bible, or everything, the law
The Holy Scripture must be opened
And there must be
Publicly displayed, the so-called three great lights
And the three great lights of Freemasonry are

A million hours to carve the Sphinx
Behind whose eyelids screams an enigma
I sit on its nose and sing the chorus
On the horizon, Cheops and Khafre await us
Two camels, me and Maradona
The wind stinks of the Pharaoh's sweat
We spit sand, mute as caryatids
While the eye from the top of the pyramid watches us
The desert, the two of us princes of Egypt
Millennia older than the Edict of Milan
Constantine read forbidden books about us
We worship the sun as the only constant
Because of the sun, paranoia poisons our brains
While somewhere far in the west grows a sequoia
Crocodiles from the Nile flick their tongues
We are the forerunners of all Indian hookahs
We are the forerunners, forerunners of all forerunners
We are the forerunners of all partisan guerrillas
While prophets with pupils the color of washerwomen's skin
Announce the week of the birth of a new king
We are here (here) to stay
Until our epidermis burns, until we become
Golden ashes in burnt wood
Papyrus soaked in blood
Mute with rage because our greatness
Will be recognized only when we turn to dust
Skill with a chisel, for access to the caravan
While the moon illuminates our mirage

We are poets in the desert, searching for words and rhythm
Architects of the abstract
Truth and myths, words, bits
Mystics seek refuge in linguistics
Poets in the desert, searching for words and rhythm
Architects of the abstract
Truth and myths, words, bits
Mystics seek refuge in linguistics

We are an organization that the whole nation fears
Hoods on heads, a dark connotation
You, throw us some respect for the knightly order
Put an ax in honey and be a brother
Every fraction is part of the whole
Which sees everything and hides the rap behind the scenes
A true example of how to reach that height because everyone sees
The eye at the top of the pyramid, I'm going on a hike
To Solomon's Temple, for the Holy Grail
I know the descendants of Atlantis very well
I'm a mason, I'm building history over bits
No matter how important I am, I'm a brick in the wall
Because of a higher goal, I go over my appetites
I walk thousands of miles, and for you I have a scroll
On which a contract is written, I mustn't say anything
Only a scream is heard
Because we are the secret lodge, to make the skin crawl immediately
From skulls, darkness, candles, gold, and a knife
Through the secret passage into underground canals
Rituals pass to the main chamber
Some fraternal jokes, I serve raps
Our spirit is restless, the supreme architect of the universe
Blood, sweat, and tears I have to shed for the great Orient
Everyone raises their glasses high and then lowers them so I can pour more

I am the Grand Master of the Regular Grand Lodge of Serbia

We are poets in the desert, searching for words and rhythm
Architects of the abstract
Truth and myths, words, bits
Mystics seek refuge in linguistics
Poets in the desert, searching for words and rhythm
Architects of the abstract
Truth and myths, words, bits
Mystics seek refuge in linguistics