I’m in the light, open to every eye -
I do as I do often; like an icon
I come up to a microphone; today
It’s more like I’m approaching a cannon.

And I will not rub against the microphone
Yes, my voice is loathsome to any
Yes, I know, if a lie comes on
It will augment it surely without pity.

Rays beneath the lamp on ribs do beat me
Lamps shimmer into the face unkindly
And projectors blind from every side
And the heat! The heat! Is blind!

Today I rant again without control,
But in the tone I don’t risk making change -
For if I make a turn inside the soul
It will correct the curve with rage.

The beast, than a blade it is more thin -
The flawless hearing, it hears lies till the iota -
It does not care that in beat I don’t fit in
But that I more completely sing the notes!

Rays beneath the lamp on ribs do beat me
Lamps shimmer into the face unkindly
And projectors blind from every side
And the heat! The heat! Is blind!

Upon the supple neck this microphone
Is rolling with its snake head;
If I get silent - it will sting
I have to sing - till stupor, till the end.

Don’t move, don’t touch, don’t dare!
I saw the sting - you are a snake, I know!
And I am like a charmer of a snake
I do not sing, I’m putting spell upon a cobra!

Rays beneath the lamp on ribs do beat me
Lamps shimmer into the face unkindly
And projectors blind from every side
And the heat! The heat! Is blind!

It wants to eat, and with a birdling’s greed
It takes the sounds out of the mouth,
In forehead it will put nine grams of lead
I won’t raise the hands - the guitar binds them!

Again it will not reach the end!
What is this microphone - who will respond!
Today it is like lamp against the face,
But I’m not holy, and there’s no light from the microphone.

Rays beneath the lamp on ribs do beat me
Lamps shimmer into the face unkindly
And projectors blind from every side
And the heat! The heat! Is blind!

My melodies are simpler than the scales
But barely beating from a sure tone -
I am sickly beaten on the face
By an immobile shade of microphone

I’m in the light, open to every eye -
I do as I do often; like an icon
I come up to a microphone; today
It’s more like I’m approaching a cannon.

Rays beneath the lamp on ribs do beat me
Lamps shimmer into the face unkindly
And projectors blind from every side
And the heat! The heat! Is blind!