Vaska the Crooked murdered three fishermen
With a sharpened pin
Then scored silver emptied from their pockets
With almost four rubles
Ripped out of their backpacks
A half-empty bottle of shitty wine
Which is when the rivers turned red
Chorus :
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere
They arrested Vaska the Crooked
And sent him in for trial
Heated judges wait
Drinking glasses of cold kvass
Resting above them is a coat-of-arms swarming with flies
A coat-of-arms made out of solid lead
Upon it, a sickle of blood from the farmer
And a hammer of blood from the smith
Chorus :
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere
Vaska the Crooked awoke at dawn,
Innervated they walked down the corridor
The black and gravel corridor
With a tiled floor
God's mother was demanding entrance to the prison
Her head on the iron door
Vaska's bloody feet were on the tiles
Washing the filth off with a hose
Chorus :
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere
These rivers flow to nowhere
Flowing, sinking to nowhere