Scuffling in a dry hole in his backyard
His angry eyes are ready to collapse
No one in the world is talking now
The absolute silence of the apocalypse

‘It’s coming, it’s coming’, yells the crazy tramp

Again, again
The same mistakes
The same people to blame
The same subjects, the same stuff to complain

Everybody needs relief and salvation
Get your pass to hell says the old priest
Coming back to the day they are born
Turning back their eyes to an unbelievable choir

What's up, kid?
Is it harder than you thought?
Or just easier than you sought?

Again, again
The same mistakes
The same people to blame
The same subjects, the same stuff to complain

Scream
Kick and gloat
But recognize
Deal with it
We all gonna die
And the rest is just a waste of time

Again, again
The same mistakes
The same people to blame
The same subjects, the same stuff to complain