| Where the mother-nurse throws bits under their feet like a crow's head of cabbage
|
| What will be the end for the first - the beginning for the second
|
| Everyone wants a golden calf, but whose cow would moo?
|
| Mooed in pain, mooed giving birth to a freak, giving birth to generations
|
| Screaming from the rusty garrotte
|
| And the tender neck of the mother, in layers, diverges in two
|
| And the folds of the tablecloth, the blood coagulated - then your price
|
| For your own children
|
| Alma mater
|
| The screws are spinning and the nuts are popping
|
| Who was not loved, will not be
|
| Playfully I pop nuts
|
| And like an elevator (Aha-ha-ha)
|
| From the womb of the earth I will raise the alma mater
|
| The screws are spinning and the nuts are popping
|
| Who was not loved, will not be
|
| Playfully I pop nuts
|
| And I break screws (Aha-ha-ha)
|
| And everything that looks like tinsel is you
|
| You pull into your mouth that
|
| Rustle and shine
|
| Ted in cavity
|
| How to rule and observe (So)
|
| Your maternal duty, and
|
| The thread is pulled into the needle
|
| The doctor drooped, fell silent, they say:
|
| "And God is with her, it's not a pity
|
| Alma mater, so die, give birth ”(And die, give birth)
|
| People without a face and without facial expressions
|
| Everyone is similar, but you just hint
|
| That every time passing by to them
|
| Probabilities point in dynamics
|
| It will unfold in a curve above us, where
|
| Shaking in peaks, as if from a tremor
|
| So a miscarriage is definitely one of two
|
| Newborn extremum points
|
| The screws are spinning and the nuts are popping
|
| Who was not loved, will not be
|
| Playfully I pop nuts
|
| And like an elevator (Aha-ha-ha)
|
| From the womb of the earth I will raise the alma mater
|
| The screws are spinning and the nuts are popping
|
| Who was not loved, will not be
|
| Playfully I pop nuts
|
| And I break screws (Aha-ha-ha) |