(Male  Female Plain-Both)

A message that's always in my head,
Maybe it'll reach somebody, who knows?
Certainly I've always been this way,
A patched up, insane Matryoshka!

A package sung from a headache,
Time may pass but the hands are still at 4!
Don't tell anyone but the world,
Will turn upside down!

Ah, I feel torn apart,
Throw out all the memories too!
Ah, how I want to know,
To the deepest part...

Uhm, well if you please,
Dance more and more!
Kalinka? Malinka?
Just play the chord!
What am I supposed to do,
With such feelings?
Can't you tell me? Just a lil bit?

Loud and clear, 524!
Freud? Keloid?
Just hit the key!
All, everything's to be laughed at!
Hurry and dance with all your foolishness!

Clap your hands, it's not really childish!
And listen, to this chaotic fully-crazed tune.
I certainly don't care either way,
The warmth of this world is melting away!

After school, you  and me,  rendezvous?
Rendezvous?
Rendezvous?
Or perhaps you'd like a hopping adventure?
With a crooked smile,
1! 2! 1! 2!

Ah, I'm falling~!
Catch every part of me!
Ah, with both of your hands,
Catch me for me...

Uhm, well... listen a little,
It's something important!
Kalinka? Malinka?
Just pinch my cheek!
It's just that I can't control myself anymore!
Should we do more fantastic things?
Pain, pleasure, hurt but don't cry!
Parade? Marade?
Just clap some more!
Wait, you say?
Wait, wait, wait,
Before we fuse to just one...

After school you  and me,  rendezvous?
Rendezvous?
Rendezvous?
Or perhaps you'd like a hopping adventure?
With a crooked stare,
1! 2! 1! 2!

Hey~ hey~
Down with a cold?
Hey~ hey~
Show me your song!
Hey~ hey~
See how even today...
I'm still a patched up, insane Matryoshka!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~­~~~~~~~~~~
Hey, hey, hey!
If you'd please,
Dance more and more!
Kalinka? Malinka?
Just play that chord!
What am I supposed to do,
With such feelings?
Can't you tell me? Just a lil bit?

Loud and clear, 524!
Freud? Keloid?
Just hit the key!
All, everything's to be laughed at!
Hurry, go and dance no more!

'Smooch' 'smooch' Kiss! This moment is ours alone!
'Smooch' 'smooch' *Kiss! We don't care about them, not at all!

/            every time the soloist breaks into
a solo...
     i start fidgeting!
            imitating a "paraphrase"
  of a conductor, allowed an orchestra!
alas!
      all, and all, that i own...
              are.... shadows!
          yet every time!
      the soloist from the soviet choir
on the song kalinka breaks into a solo?!
          i break form,
    of a body, otherwise intact,
hunched over a computer keyboard!

         the choir on the song
kalinka?!

       one hand imitation
of a piano
on my behalf?

most of the times up relistening
i'm "thinking":

  thank god it's not
the overplayed o fortuna
by orff!

     finally!
  i can relive visiting
  the mariinsky theatre!
  
        shambles! ******-attires!
and english satire!
  
   bravo!
    applause! applause! applause!                /

you don't, somehow, suddenly,
get to come after me,
when your lax, in up-keeping
the rigidity of grammar,
     this orthodox rubric -
somehow waver!
           you could have had all you
already have and talk about
about?
   but not keeping standardized
rules of conversation?
      not keeping grammar?
well...
**** keeping anything else!
          even the cordiality
of over-stepping the execution
and conventionality of
   profundity...
   whatever...
           one word keeps ringing
in my ears,
   an old soviet choir word...
  kalinka kalinka kalinka...
            figuring out to sing it,
within the confines of
an Ukranian Cossack Hopak...
the atypical Kiev drunken
****...
       because?
if you can't keep your moderate
house in order...
if you can't keep grammatical
rules... transcending the point
of nouns and pronouns and
verbs...
your language?
like an imploding foreign
currency of equivalence
to the Weimar Republic...
    language, as a currency?
   hyper-inflated...
over-iterated...
   over-used...
                it makes the people,
like me, who acquired it...
look stupid,
  while your own, retards...
dictate a language that
no one, sooner or later, will want
to learn, to reengage in
the linguo franca basis...
because?
   well... if what some of your
inborn comrades are doing
what they're doing with
the rules of grammar?
   it's equivalent to
the profanity equivalent
  to 2 + 2 = 5....
                or?
abacus = aabcus...
        no?!
                        what is native
about the speaker of english?
well... originally it's not
the language of Wales,
or Ireland...
  and i'm pretty sure...
not even related to Scotland;
but i like...
the fact, that "eastern" European
workers, are no longer flocking
to these Isles...
    oh i'm sure...
that there are enough English workers...
to fill in their shoes...
or enough Romanian or Bulgarians...
without the slightest knowledge of
the English tongue...
to fill the missing feet
of the existing shoes!
get your house in order...
               dictate your rules...
but not, inside, my... head!