Happy idiot walking on the grass
Без рифмы, без особого ритма, просто так, потому что вдруг взбрело в голову записать.



English



If this world is all that it seems,

Well, then I'm just a Scrapeyard Artist,

Climbing on heads of those like me:

Recycled ideas and throw-away dreams.



You claim to be the Creator,

Well, then I'm just a Scrapeyard Artist,

Born to forever strive for the stars,

But never even leaving the gutters.