| Their territory is marked, the watering place is poisoned
|
| Full houses are provided by a deaf-and-dumb crowd
|
| They enter without knocking into every house, they cannot be counted.
|
| And it's just not possible not to eat this rubbish.
|
| They are the idols of youth, go crazy for them,
|
| They must have a lot of money and other shit
|
| They are wonderful artists, they are good for everyone,
|
| They should have everything in the world, except for the soul,
|
| They have a hundred thousand shows for themselves and for you
|
| They screw up under the plywood, driving everyone into ecstasy,
|
| Popsy be very cool, but remember one thing,
|
| Trying to get out of there will end in a jump through the window.
|
| Oh, pop - the pink mouth of a hungry dog,
|
| Oh, pop music - pink rubbish from horns to tail.
|
| Oh, pop...
|
| They proudly bear the name of glorious pop music,
|
| They successfully mow under the stars, but they bite like dogs,
|
| Their patrons are cool. |
| Because of their broad backs,
|
| Sticking out suicide and cheap heroin.
|
| They boast of perversions and dirty laundry,
|
| They chose a queen but sold her
|
| Dopey rockers, breaking through there,
|
| They dissolve like spring water in vodka.
|
| Oh, pop - the pink mouth of a hungry dog,
|
| Oh, pop music - pink rubbish from horns to tail.
|
| Oh, pop...
|
| Oh, pop - the pink mouth of a hungry dog,
|
| Oh, pop music - pink rubbish from horns to tail.
|
| Oh, pop...
|
| Oh, pop - the pink mouth of a hungry dog,
|
| Oh, pop music - pink rubbish from horns to tail.
|
| Pops... |