A paralyzed emotion lobe
That can be resurrected by worn-out thoughts
Made into the shape of someone else's views
Lines and endless love
So that it wouldn't happen when it hit the atmosphere
Like happened to the space junk
When it wanted to come back home
And didn't believe the signs of prediction
Meant anything
chorus 1:
Take the authority out of the hands
Of those who won't understand it after all
Be gladly
An evil person
This is not a deathbed
Be kind and do that elsewhere
For hygiene, it's necessary to carry around a curtain
So that everyone wouldn't have to see things such as that
Even though they all love to peek
And feel superiority
That they will never have
For them, epicaricacy is the purest form of joy
chorus 1
chorus 2:
Don't bow down to the statues of those
Who are behind all your problems
Be gladly
An evil person
Like happened to the space junk
When it wanted to come back home
And didn't believe the signs of prediction
Meant anything
chorus 1 + 2
As the gear of a cogwheel
Under the grease, hiding