Текст песни гр. Игры - Крик в жизни.

Airplanes go to Guatemala
The girls are selling their packaging.
Old monkeys have no more age
We have lost the land, the night has come.
And we ask ourselves: where are we going?
Among all these bastards drinking
Far from African countries.

And we ask ourselves: how soon, -
Like the wind, throw away the shackles of hate
The world where we vegetate
Lovers fight in Tokyo.
The boys are called Sida.
Kids don't play da-da anymore
They ripped off Pinocchio's nose
And we ask ourselves: where are we going?
Among the pointed hidden cameras
Throwing informative bombs at us.

We give money on the street.
At home, TV dulls the intellect.
The terrified bare their veins
We inform our agents about them.
And we ask ourselves: where are we going?
Witch hunt in Salem
Or to a country where everyone loves each other.
And we want to know: will we go there,
Unable to throw off the shackles of hatred
The world where we vegetate
The world where we vegetate.