Smithereens! The crown is smashed to smithereens! No throne or ruler to be seen! Russiaís life and laws have been - Shot to hell! And we - Forced into holes in the ground, Like poor thieves we are bound, Blood and shame mixed are found - Just as well! Yes, we... We have no bloody clue Who to join and who to screw, Who is in our bastard crew, Where to go to or what to do - This all sucks! Thereís no spirit, no honour, no shame. Whoís one of us or one of them? How was it then this mess came? And does no-one give a damn Russiaís fucked? Shame! On all, those peace-loving gits On all, who just canít commit; Those who canít choose if itís fit To kill! Look out! Let the wolves, let the bears And the hawkís talons tear. Just invite the crows down there. For a fill. Hey, you! Whereís your old firmness? Whereís your old confidence? All youíve got is meanness And a pistol in your hand. Itís gone. Damn it, itís gone! Itís all battered and shattered. Thereís only one thing matters: Put your gun up to your brow Or shoot the enemy... now!
© John Farndon + Olga Nakston. Translation, 2022
© Anthony Cable. Performance, 2022