The wheel of hell turns, another wheel turns.
The joints of the mechanical mind are creaking.
The brain guides the dead body without finishing. to my problems.
The traces have come to stay, the carcass is turning blue from the plague.
It was damp for a long time and the laundry was completely untidy
Like just whine to the bottom of the bottle when that machine never freezes
Answer my insults or the revolver will sing.
CHORUS:
Tread, tread on this damn bike
until the sparks fly out of you.
And all of it disappears from wherever it was born.
Tossed into a pit, hidden away.
Somewhere out there , where the night is eternal
can hide tears.
Sin wraps its face in the dark silk,
drows in beauty, fades into eternity.
Shoulders in the raindrops, sneaks into the mind to remind.
That evil escaped its roots, tries to rise higher.
You don't notice, the world rises with it, it is far away, it is longed for,
gone is the whole system.
When the carnival is on and the Cossacks are cooking booze,
You can throw a pill rally with the Moscow-Petersburg taxi.