I was poor bio-engineer
And working hard all days in the State Scientific-Research Center
I was poor! I was an honest tax payer
And I got down on my knees and started to pray.

OH! LORD!

And Lord said:
Leave your job!
Big cash in narco-business
You must synthesize new [bad word] 
And sell to the trance clubs!

And I left my job
I found [bad word] in the corpses
It was ptomaine
And synthesized the great psychedelic [bad word] from it
This [bad word] became bestseller on trance and rave parties
And I became rich and famous
But good corpse is so hard to find!

I wake up at 10
And I dig the grave
Every [bad word]  day
I dig hundred graves
Corpses are everywhere
Corpses are everywhere
I don’t [bad word]  care
I don’t [bad word]  care
I’ll make a lot of [bad word] 
Make a lot of [bad word] 
Aphrodisiacs
Aphrodisiacs

Everyone should try his best
To be necessary for the rest
So my friend and I have own work
We dig graves, dig ground and chalk
Then extract beneath the coffins
Poison, listening the corpses’ laughing
Then we work the poison up
Just to place it into cup
Where we synthesize new [bad word] 
Which we sell to the trance clubs
Make a really lot of money
Make it funky, make it funny