Fantastic Days
Lyrics
Rusty remains of four-wheeled tubs
Overgrown with bushes, the yards, since long ago
Old swings swayed by a gust of wind
And in the clear water, schools of fish will flash again
Where asphalt was, only grass, and the winding of vines
Instead of a bank branch — a gharial and a baboon
No more price list, no more menus
The securities were scattered along the avenue
Nobody here cares about them, hey
In these fantastic days, hey
Mold eats stacks of books
By itself, the city is quietly turning into a greenhouse
The motor noise has faded, downtown is empty
An albatross will chart its course in the sky
A shrike will sing, having chosen its bush
Simply the human resource has been exhausted
No lights burn in houses, Walmart is not working
Only animals inhabit this world
The dome of the sky, and beneath it fantastic days
Fantastic days no more bullshit
And neither beast nor bird will come to their senses
When humanity self-destructs
When a great multitude of rockets soar downward
And above us suddenly, like pine cones, the heavens will crumble
Memory of the past will be cut out with scissors
On the green chromakey, spring the artist
And as if in a dream, you and I will vanish, as it should be
Leaving nothing good behind
Abandoned bars and restaurants are silent
The White House with Buckingham Palace unguarded
On the planet, not a soul, and waking up early
Only cockroaches rustled through the houses
Homes overgrown with vines, destroyed by decay
Erasing smiles that once smiled at us
And in the sky, only clouds spread their wings
Casting a condescending gaze upon the post-apocalypse
No lights burn in houses, Walmart is not working
Only animals inhabit this world
The dome of the sky, and beneath it fantastic days
Fantastic days no more bullshit