Post Soviet Post Mortem

Those beneath us are the ones who need us
You've let somebody else take our place
Cry us a river
cross your little fingers
You've let somebody else take our place

I'm addicted to conception of affectionate narration
Hang the king, elect the bleak reflection of perfection
A bald man's statue in the middle of a square I love this land, dog
Express the extraordinary need for demonstration
Build the bigger and balder piece of bloody meditation
A black building, white building, green building, people singing:
I love this land, but

Mother of god
was all of it worth it?
Don't stand in the doorway
Oh, don't block up the hall
WE ARE DONE

Christmas present
Life is not that pleasant
All those idols are not worth your time The words are forgotten
they're drowning in the water
Where's the beauty in your ordinary life?

We're fallen idols
begging for your kindness
Do you remember all the songs we used to play?
We bow in your presence
Hope you buy our record
Don't let somebody else take our place