My comrade P. is slightly outraged
The knife is honed and spilled with blood
I dance with fairy-mushrooms on the stage
My wooden horses lined-up at the start
And flies together with black crows
Float through the heavens getting nuts
I feel like hundred-year corpse
I feed meat-hasher with my guts
My ********* fatherland in red
Is getting mossy day by day
I look at it from high above my head
While comrade P. is turning into clay
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
My comrade P. is slightly outraged
The knife is honed and spilled with blood
I dance with fairy-mushrooms on the stage
My wooden horses lined-up at the start
And flies together with black crows
Float through the heavens getting nuts
I feel like hundred-year corpse
I feed meat-hasher with my guts
My ********* fatherland in red
Is getting mossy day by day
I look at it from high above my head
While comrade P. is turning into clay