Texty:
World Burns To Death The Graveyard Of Utopia

In The dusty Kiev streets it is deadly fucking grey, And the voices on the radio all speak of prophesy? But the wormwood in the air left a bitter taste

The wind blows hot dust into eyes, clogs nostrils with human soot Hell smells just like this? of death and sulfur burning The new wind silences the

the hungry Of wonderful times to come When they speak of peace? War is coming When they speak of love? Hatred is coming When they speak of life? Death

the Cheka?s political liquidations Flowers for the funeral wreaths of a quarter million dead Flowers for the Nazi?s barbaric Barbarossa Flowers for a memorial to children burned