There’s a celebration in the street,
but what are they celebrating?
Oh, yeah, it’s like the day of the city.
The air is impregnated with the presence smell of these beasts.
Do you agree with this epithet?
They are of other race,
they are not people,
Or just the contrary, they are people,
and I'm probably not.
What’s the time?
It is obviously not morning.
But I will not leave my musty shelter,
I won’t merge with the crowd,
I won’t wait for the transport foolishly, I won’t go,
I will not wear the mask of normality, not today.
There’s a celebration in the streets.
It’s good that it’s Autumn,
I can close the curtains,
I can kill the noise with blanket.
And will not hear the sounds from outside.
Soon they will begin to break each others empty heads,
Crud, stupid scumbags.
There’s the celebration in the street,
but I have more important things to do.
I have to choose the name for my conscious loneliness.
There’s a celebration in the street…
