Always right with me, behind my back,
The enslaved don't have hope,
I go, I read, but it stuck with my skin, with me,
The shadow ransacks behind, a nervous contour.

Always to us days conceal a pressure,
There is no ease of space on rising,
The invisible soldier squeezes hoops,
The security guard constant in a campaign.

Steel locks without knowing a tightness,
We live, we slide, meeting on the road,
But shadows..., shadows in a trace thoughtfully look,
Without us they aren't present, without us they a trifle, - dust on soles,
That stuck on a threshold.

"Be rich, or die, trying to become," -
The line in number Ferrari is punched,
The shadow can do everything, doesn't dare to fly only..., -
To the earth an iron chain chained.