Otrov [English translation]

A small country, made of heavy metal,

Some hills, some plains,

Hundred scandals and two hundred newspapers,

Twenty four TV stations

To a human in the new century

Things just keep on getting worse

I am shaving because I have to hide

The consequences that remain behind

Chorus:

Poison,

Neither drunk, nor smoked

Poison,

Neither swallowed, nor sniffed

Poison,

This gets into one's ears

Poison,

Desert in one's soul

Poison,

Neither drunk, nor smoked

Poison,

Neither swallowed, nor sniffed

Poison,

The worst of it all

Poison,

Get off it

Too many crows within a single year

Everybody writing their own [critical] reviews

Other countries, they have stars, too

But they're not politicians

Bad conditions [just] in time for the campaign

Angry people, sketchy visions,

Yell louder, to gather your voters,

Find a victim and humiliate them

Chorus x2

Get off it