| At the head of my country candy lord
|
| A big fan of sweets and a huge whiner
|
| Thousands of milk rivers of him and cocoa baobabs
|
| Pink ponies and salty mourning
|
| For him, I'm like a fly in the ointment in fresh wine
|
| Like a stone pebble on a beautiful flat day
|
| As if the last ruble with gypsy children
|
| Like sour caustic sauce in caramel
|
| Approached him with the warmth and trepidation of a boy
|
| “Maybe it’s enough to eat cherries from my round plate?
|
| I don't see, I don't see you trying"
|
| How the bouncers twisted my handles
|
| The candy lord said to me in response
|
| "No pen - no candy", that's our nonsense
|
| No pen - no candy - not environmentally friendly
|
| "Do something serious" is telling me again
|
| Made a candy factory, environmental friendliness on the conveyor
|
| The candy lord came, in his hands a huge fan
|
| Came to sweep my candy, you goddamn son of a bitch
|
| Not according to your soul, nit, we had a feast!
|
| And I took a deep breath here, took my sweet cut
|
| Candy shot with molasses and shot, you should have seen the kneading
|
| Cherry jam in all the cracks, Mr. Proper did not launder
|
| The candy lord is dead, the dead will not come to the feast!
|
| The gold of the crown is mine now
|
| Candy lord in cherry death molasses
|
| I hear the sound of milk rivers, a stream runs
|
| From pieces previously considered eternal
|
| Oh, how sweet is this bitch meren
|
| How long have you been drinking cocktails from my blood,
|
| But now he can't get my sweets
|
| The power was taken, let's get rid of the power |