A car is twisting.
In long tunnel of metro.
And a passenger is pecking out word by word...
We are writing about spite, 'bout the topic,
And-about its goodness also,
But mostly-about its malice, and evil,and horror!..
And we live,looking 'round in inner fear.
We live,giving up our friends and for long.
We are riding without a thought of the destiny,
We are scared to miss it in the tunnel of metro.
The usual spite of the day...
And hatred is simplier, than love, you know,
Hatred is worth to be explained...
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*The last line may be "Hatred is explainable..."