(music - somehow like a Metallica, "Turn The Page")
It was in another country, nearby twenty years ago,
In damned time of sorrow, darkness, autumn fall,
Day to day you must go to old, stuppid red-brick school
In edge of broken city, where every mad and cruel.
New times came here so quickly, ruined state, where you was born,
Starcrossed sign of Zodiac, ain't wealthy Unicorn,
Like your classmate, who sells rock posters, being very fan of rave,
"Look, James Hetfield from Metallica!", but you haven't money day by day.
Oh, where's my metal childhood?
Maybe, it's in a grave...
Oh, where's my metal childhood,
When I wanted
To f*** the President of Ukraine!
You are so tired and empty in this endless senseless race,
Bulling crowd of cool big guys spitting to your face,
Only joy is listen to music which doesn't like modern people,
On Chinese tape-recorder, blood type marked on your sleeve.
Drunkard father loves his Deep Purple, and rocking it so loud,
You hate him and his company, haven't any thing to proud.
All backstreet lads are rappers, you haven't any friend,
Frozen Sarmat on Millenium, twentieth century's dead end.
Oh, where's my metal childhood?..
Maybe, it's in the grave...
Oh, where's my metal childhood,
When I wanted
To kill the President of Ukraine.
See, the summer flied over, time is gone, all things were changed,
You're silver-haired and lonely, with hate in heart and head,
Having nothing, how said mother, when gangsters stole your bike,
Bad weather news from everywhere, life is finally dislike.
That days with compact cassettes, no Bizkit and Slipknot,
Like mirage, like a nightmare, headless horseman with cuted throat,
Well I'm standing by the river, but the water doesn't flow,
Rock Kiev fest please wait for me, nearby twenty years ago.
Oh, where's my metal childhood!!!
Maybe, it's in my grave!..
Oh, where's my metal childhood!!!
When I wanted
To be the President of Ukraine...
10/30/2019.
Written by Deather.