Ballad about the spheres of influence

This hell is our sovereign out of Eurasia

And when we overwhelm our own -

Half and more

And Erzatz-dictatorship

Will come in our metropolis,

And from the standpoint of strength,

From the top of its monopoly

You will remind us of freedoms, rights, etc.

In response, we will remind you:

"But what about you in the Capitol?!" -

And let's see then

What do you say to our crowd.

And when our people

Finally sour in captivity, and

Demonstrators-smart

They will cowardly be in pain, and

Diverse is abolished

In universities, and nurseries, and school, and

You will begin to teach us how to teach everyone and always,

We will exclaim you in response:

"But what about you in the Capitol?!" - &

And then your cheeks &

They will be covered with shame. &

Oh, then we will recall

How contemptuously you troll us!

How are you your agents

Opposition fathers walked!

How you killed Ashley

How Donald you have destroyed

Having established the dictatorship

Their democrats-passcood ...

New House of Trade Unions

Happened in your Capitol!

So we will say then

And in our eyes, tears will flash.

With the freedom of the word

You brazenly dealt on Twitter

And arranged in the press

Cynical revelry-sabantuy.

How to teach Russians,

You first sniff my deprivation

Bow the drug addict

And black in the ass kiss!

And object to the charter,

Tired of bombing the arguments

Our snow wasteland

With the latest foreign agents,

Finally realizing that you are not fighting with interest,

And with the horde, monolith,

The lead hand of Moscow,

And realizing that we are going to learn from you, we are we,

“And hell would be with you” -

Finally you answer us.

And for a long time you would!

Because quite a wound.

Nobody never

There will be no change here.

It will be nailed

Section on the spheres of influence:

With you, maybe God,

And with us is an unshakable horseradish.

And another we do not need fate,

Yes, the other is not issued.

We will not change to Tesla

Forty creaky skew.

Where God is unknown.

He is your Pindos fiction.

But the hell for us.

For our sensation is given.

This is our mission - &

The limit to put out of the outrages, &

Expose our essence

Because sticking out of the port,

This is the hell of our sovereign

He overshadows Eurasia,

Subbing Europe

Under the northern Russian stream.

And murlo of democracy

In a miserable smile will grin

You did it

Having trampled your last redoubt.

Fraer and minorities

With a dubious god they will remain

And normal people

Confidently go to hell.