Ларёк [laryok] [English translation]

I'm a shard from electric train,

Night, the station, the eyes in the window ...

I'm, like wet matches in the rain,

The skies in Borodino...

Street lights chewing on the alley,

Locomotive like a lump of ice.

In the black room, on the yardarm

Blued horde watching us.

Wicked stage, we swallow stuff to hide,

With a rifle but they hit the punk...

Convicts are sleeping on the roll call

In the dirty pool near the prison stall.

Mister warden quickly running

With the paper on the wind...

And on the rails time is crying,

We'll be happy towards the morning!

Life is sick, the cough and boredom

Drinking heartburn from the ditch,

Licking ash, and barking bitch

By the movement of the hand.

In the bandaged train station

So familiar and icy cold,

Pouring rusty medal

The skies in Borodino!

We believed, that we know precise ,

Life wouldn't be worse.

We'll live in warmth, and on the side.

Drinking from hangover near the kiosk.

With kiosks we join the land,

We'll tie together east and west

And Mc Donalds will except

Only our native tray

Our kiosk, joy for all,

On the wind it flatters senses...

It holding troubles and dancing hall

And saving lives in morning drinking sessions

Oh, my Rus', you're in a dreams of mass.

Prophetic dream is always a nightmare...

And reach and poor, all of us

This gift we have to bare!

What is open in the world for us is dead.

What will the centuries throw up for you and yours,

In the five room flat

I'm drinking to oblivion near the kiosk

On my freedom of speech

The bastards pour freedom of lies.

Mister warden, be a peach,

Tell us evil tail of paradise

Who we become, I don't know,

Do we believe that steel is strong?

Rus' by sunset will be gone,

Crucified near kiosk.

City's screaming from the screens,

In the forehead of frozen hamlets...

We're leaving much too soon,

Leaving only nonsense.

We've finished our road ,

We walked on fascists and on pop,

We were dragging our souls to God,

Pity, not all of us survived.

And in spirit like we breathe

The sky is cut by beauty

And your scraps with our teeth

We rip till canvas clean!

Beauty is here, you my dear,

It's not reachable, not easy,

We are watching you and yours,

drinking from hangover near the kiosk.

You will save us , I know for sure.

I'm your enemy and your food,

BEAUTY DOESN'T DISAPPEAR

IT"S ONLY LEAVING US SOMETIME

• Artist:DDT