It didn't require great character at all
our refusal disagreement and resistance
we had a shred of necessary courage
but fundamentally it was a matter of taste
                                           Yes taste
in which there are fibers of soul the cartilage of conscience
 
Who knows if we had been better and more attractively tempted sent
rose-skinned women thin as a wafer
or fantastic creatures from the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch
but what kind of hell was there at this time
a wet pit the murderers' alley the barrack
called a palace of justice
a home-brewed Mephisto in a Lenin jacket
sent Aurora's grandchildren out into the field
boys with potato faces
very ugly girls with red hands
 
Verily their rhetoric was made of cheap sacking
(Marcus Tullius kept turning in his grave)
chains of tautologies a couple of concepts like flails
the dialectics of slaughterers no distinctions in reasoning
syntax deprived of beauty of the subjunctive
 
So aesthetics can be helpful in life
one should not neglect the study of beauty
 
Before we declare our consent we must carefully examine
the shape of the architecture the rhythm of the drums and pipes
official colors the despicable ritual of funerals
 
    Our eyes and ears refused obedience
    the princes of our senses proudly chose exile
 
It did not require great character at all
we had a shred of necessary courage
but fundamentally it was a matter of taste
                                           Yes taste
that commands us to get out to make a wry face draw out a sneer
even if for this the precious capital of the body the head
                                                                must fall