A lizard-lassitude crawls over my breast,
The sober head is not at daggers with the heart,
Full speeding now does not take away my breath,
The blood at steep turns won’t be turning cold and hard.

And no lumps from love I’m having in the throat,
The nerves are ropes-like left after a washed lot,
The nerves are no more tensed - can torn be up with ease:
And I don’t bother if my rival ever wins.

I ride high -
if am pushed -
shall be earthed,
Everything
has been swooshed -
out of worth.

I do not drink the ice-cold water numbing teeth,
And hasten neither people nor whatever events,
And my idle bow is a rotten stringing with,
All arrows are burnt to keep off accidents.

And no stresses, no passions would arise,
I scold madcaps - and now don’t accept the guys,
To mention not of all those foolhardy chaps.
Am not inspired with the very fact of raps.

I ride high -
if am pushed -
shall be earthed,
Everything
has been swooshed -
out of worth.

There’s no wish to make a change, unravel tangles,
To tighten or to loosen knots is not a must.
There’s no need to double off any obtuse angles -
They are not angles at all if acute ones were passed.

There’s no tenderness that can delight the soul,
To be persuaded cannot be achievable goal.
And since the brain’s completely free of any “should”
I don’t feel pressure by the mind or by a boot.

I ride high -
if am pushed -
shall be earthed,
Everything
has been swooshed -
out of worth.

The scars don’t bother me, the wounds - they do not ache, -
There are the bandages on them, sterile and tight!
No thoughts, no questions I am taken by aback, -
They don’t disturb me anymore, and don’t excite.

The belt is loose or tight - to me it’s just the same!
I don’t deserve a bullet - not a proper aim,
I am transparent as a sheet of safety glass,
And am unnoticeable like a linen made of flax.

I ride high -
if am pushed -
shall be earthed,
Everything
has been swooshed -
out of worth.

I do not look for the philosophers’ wise stone,
Don’t search for root of life - ginseng replaces it,
I don’t have dreams, have no wishes of my own,
And I don’t hope that the target can be hit.

I’m tired of the Earth’s attraction and the boost, -
Just lie to keep the greater distance from the noose.
The heart itself seems not inside me anymore, -
It’s time to be where’s only “neither” and just “nor”.

I ride high -
if am pushed -
shall be earthed,
Everything
has been swooshed -
out of worth.