Русский Рок [Russkiy Rok] [English translation]

They buried Russian rock, they buried it,

Clouds of ash, crowds of burning and dust,

And it lay in a fine, attractive coffin,

Quite unlike a corpse.

They buried Russian rock, they buried it,

Teeth ached from the cold wind,

He ruffled tatters of the black spectrum,

And newspapers with sentences of decay,

They buried Russian rock, they buried it,

They pelted it with shit and crucified it,

They trampled it, divorced it, tore it,,

Abused it, swore and howled,

They buried the master of sex-atacks,

Semi-literate pop-minstrels,

All mummified after a fight,

Phonograms and slots,

Show-business covered all expenses,

Professional crowbars and shovels,

So that stupidity doesn't go out of fashion,

So that brains can blossom from cloth and wool.

Inspired, they carried the coffin and cancer recedes,

At the funeral they ate and drank sweetly,

Copulated, guzzled bread with gusto,

And crawled, it seems to them, up to the throat,

They buried the revolution of hearing,

The reflections of light and faith,

Who hasn't kicked the fallen in the ear,

Sadomasochists who don't nurse the pain,

Of those willing to turn out,

In Russia they always bury regularly,

We see more sense in death,

That lifeblood flows nicely.

The devil gnaws colourful cans,

Licks the skull with great optimism

Prays to holes, Pharisee-toadstools

Tamers of the global show

It's not important to me what style when it's slop

Hardcore, rap or something like that

It's important to sing like you breathe and not blather

So the Russian frost can walk over your skin

In the morning they came to enjoy -

Exhume with bleach and dust

Open the coffin and there, inside, emptiness

No one, not a worm, nor an artist

Hello from another world...