Free to go - going traceless Burning tires on the asphalt From nightmares of the cities Folk escapes by means of cars Even bulky as that tanks Lincolns, Buick, Cadillacs Elegant models Mustangs, Lamborgini, Teslas, Codas. Allegedly they know the cost of the game It appeared a blood feud against cities Hit a gas, gosh forbid to burn sparking plugs, Harm or damage engine or something else No road’s before eyes, Autos, autos, nothing else Between them are spots in types Two most beatiful models. They allegedly connected By the cable, which has torn Afterburners got retired Business’ closed for marathons Allegedly they know the cost of the game God help to escape - they all will be billed. And who knows, maybe he’ll present a speech to her By the means of the horn, or somehow else This assemblage of the cars Got insulted - intercession Gray McLaren’s drifted ass Lamborghini shall be taken! Watch your way and see the fork! You can risk, you have a sense Don’t be late, o gosh, you missed Well, McLaren is not Benz Well, they knew the cost of the game Does it make now a sense to honk to billboards Or, who knows, maybe throw the burden off Literally from a hood of a car, or somehow else Luck, the fork and that is ill Ways apart and you’re not here This is luck and event will Separate both us, oh, dios! Lamborghini gets converged While McLaren’s seventh speed Was to late to get resurged - Just the brakes didn’t act as need Well, is the convergence an empty dream? Is it appeared as blood feud against cities? They are rolled wheels and axes down With the motorsport hearts and transmissions.
© Boris K’zorin. Translation, 2015