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След като Трагедиите записват Първата част на парчето, “Frank” започва да търси иновативни диджеи, които да направят авторски преработки. Идеята му е да бъде издаден сингъл с оригинала на песента, инструментална версия, видео и поне три ремикса. Диджеи обаче не се намират, тъй че, естествено, ПреподРобния натоварва със задачата Herr Stein. За целта последният сменя артистичното си име на CJ Q-Tech и стартира ремикс-поредицата с тази фънки версия на композицията, единодушно призната от DST-феновете за по-добра от оригинала, като изпява и част от вокалите. Прочетете текста.
lyrics
You want to be da R’N'R king.
To be like Sting, but you can’t sing.
To be a superstar, to drive a luxury car
That’s OK, but can you play guitar?
Just one chord? Oh, my lord!
Never mind, you’ll be da hero of Billboard.
My name is Lou Cifer, let me be your manager.
You give me your soul and I’ll make you popular. Look…
John Lennon is dead.
Elvis Presley is dead.
Janis Joplin is dead.
Jim Morrison is also fuckin dead.
Bonzo Bonham is dead.
Jimi Hendrix is dead.
Ritchie Valens is dead.
But Kurt Cobain is not yet! So…
Deep down squeezing through di entrails
Da same virus bones your life.
No, this time it’s not just a feeling
Da plague that racks you inside.
Listen to me now…
Stay on your feet, you’re not a misfit.
Open your mouth, smelling like a thin shit.
Barking like an animal, looking like Eminem
Is da way to fuck groupies all da day.
You like drugs or da drugs like you?
That is da question and I don’t have a clue
How your soul will fall in da black hole.
By suicide, AIDS or alcohol…
Sid Vicious is dead.
Bob Marley is dead.
Freddie Mercury is dead.
Cozy Powell is also fuckin dead.
Bon Scott is dead.
Eric Carr is dead.
Joey Ramone is dead.
But Kurt Cobain is not yet!
Deep down squeezing through di entrails
Da same virus bones your life.
No, this time it’s not just a feeling
Da plague that racks you inside.
So put da gun to your throat.
Da deuce doesn’t believe in God.
Now your corpse is beaten in details.
So let your soul fly so fuckin high in da blue sky…
And now you hate to be great, butty.
I think it’s time to pay me da rate, butty.
Do you remember ’bout da deal with da devil?
Moneymaking, reaching da higher level now?
Swallow da barrel, man, pull da trigger!
Don’t you see, you’re cutting no figure!
Maybe overdose instead of da led in your head?
I suppose that… do you suppose that?
Look, everybody’s dead!
Put da led to your head!
Michael Hutchence is dead.
Frank Zappa is dead.
Ian Curtis is dead.
Layne Staley is also fuckin dead.
Cliff Burton is dead.
2Pac Shakur is dead.
Chuck Schuldiner is dead.
But Kurt Cobain is not yet!
Deep down squeezing through di entrails
Da same virus bones your life.
No, this time it’s not just a feeling
Da plague that racks you inside.
So put da gun to your throat.
Da deuce doesn’t believe in God.
Now your corpse is beaten in details.
So let your soul fly high!
So let your soul fly high!
So let your soul fly high!
GENREZ: experimental rock, industrial, alternative metal,
electro metal, hip-hop, synthpop, gothic, cyberpunk
FROM: Sofia, Bulgaria
FORMED: 1992
IN BRIEF:
The DST band was created in 1992 in Sofia by the student from the National Academy of Arts Teodor Manolov and the musicians Todor Karastoianov, Nikolay Kolev and Marin Tashev....more
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