500 [English translation]

There are 500 songs and there's nothing to sing;

The sky is turning into a locked cage.

The same old words are printed in the new font.

Comic couplet for those who fall in an elevator.

The dry wind sweeps along streets of the province,

My Motherland eats its sons like a swine;

With the inexorability of a supersonic drills

The gloved hands are rocking a cradle.

Candles are lit from both ends.

The dead bury their dead.

Hey, does anyone remember who hangs on the cross?

The righteous are high under the LSD like bandits.

Every time they say me that we are together,

I remember, "cargo 200" gives the biggest money.

In Yellow Submarine has mummies in its wheelhouse.

Wheel of laughter reveals the properties of a mincer.

The patriotism just means "kill the alien",

This crack runs all through my heart.

In muddy water "the ends" cannot be seen.

The dead bury their dead.

I feel myself as a photographic negative in the light;

I feel dry rage in my heart & taste of iron in my mouth,

Our happiness is made in Hong Kong and Poland,

None of names fits us anymore;

Each young bud has a clockwork inside,

We're moving down the stairs leading down.

The tied down bird cannot be a songbird,

Those, who fall in elevator, with each second

feel themselves easier/lighter.

Dogs have choked by their own howling.

We weren't taught to live,

we were taught to die standing.

You know, two people can play this game.