Привыкать [Privikat] [English translation]

Maybe it serves us right, maybe we’re returning home

Maybe it’s good riddance, or maybe something else ...

Like stones

Like roots

Like worms

                   We’ll be getting used to it

The twilight and the gods scattered to different corners

Someone’s yawning tore the horizon in half

Hour after hour

Year after year

Century after century

                   We’ll be getting used to it

Something white and blind settled in the chest

Either a blizzard, or a gram, or everything that’s ahead

Maybe it’s thirst

Maybe it’s noon

Maybe it’s soot

                   We’ll be getting used to it.

• Artist:Egor i Opizdenevshie