Angel of nationwide hangover (BG)
Already passed the seventh of November,
Subsided sounds of common fun.
But someone moves in circles, all around there, where I stand;
Must be, an angel of nationwide hangover.
Wings are hanging like a wet mustache,
And in the air is something sour and yearning.
And citizens of country are wanting beer.
It so happens that there is nothing to say,
Reality is wingless and rumpled.
And it is impossible to make a step or even just stand up,
And all of we are defenseless like kittens;
And an enemy strives to add in vodka poison,
But someone winds its way over country, blessing all in a row –
Already passed the seventh of November,
Subsided sounds of common fun.
But someone moves in circles, all around there, where I stand;
Must be, an angel of nationwide hangover.
Wings are hanging like a wet mustache,
And in the air is something sour and yearning.
And citizens of country are wanting beer.
It so happens that there is nothing to say,
Reality is wingless and rumpled.
And it is impossible to make a step or even just stand up,
And all of we are defenseless like kittens;
And an enemy strives to add in vodka poison,
But someone winds its way over country, blessing all in a row –