According to government road rides black Rydvan ,
Book - tinted, blinding .
He rides like Schumacher , he spat on the fog
Zaporozhtsy GAI and sit in the bushes .
Pedal to the failure , in the glove compartment gun
It sticks out from these Fenech as pleased boa .
He's wrong , but do not rush to judge him by himself,
On the ground the wind howled , each catching their kicks .
Heaven on earth is that small children squealing ,
The yard is the sun that watery eyes .
A nerd sat in the archives of the day before yesterday ,
And since he did not come out and had not eaten or slept .
He remade quite simple theorems ,
He built a perpetual motion machine in just one hour .
He's wrong , but do not rush to judge him by himself,
On the ground the wind howled , each catching their kicks .
On broken skateboard in dust or water board ,
Huge light on the stage, in the subway ,
Under fire alien weapons , with a gun in his hand ,
Over a cliff on the insurance , or all at zero .
Behind the wheel or in the cockpit, or just in the compartment ,
Dug with his head or stop cocks tearing ,
Each right, who drove his own sky ,
On the ground the wind howled , each catching their kicks .