Текст песни
From the third collection of poems "The Dreamer” (Russian: Мечтатель).
In English (interpretation by Lord Muck):
In the age of the businessmen-preachers
one must pray for the bucks, pounds, yen.
Man is now the source of all riches.
The consumer of wealth is each man.
Now in death he became rather useful,
while alive he was nothing and bored.
He crashed somewhere, then made a news pool...
Now, frozen, he lies in the morgue.
He is polished to fit post-life studies,
to get praise as the newly deceased.
And the crowd lined up like his body
is the best iPhone ever released.
They will cut him to precious pieces,
they will use them to fix some of us.
Heart and kidneys will live after scissors,
feet will surely walk on the grass.
What to do with the soul if no payment?
What's the best way to handle this lot?
When the soul here is not worth a penny,
simply let it go its way to God...
