under the snow

In short, an apocalypse occurred and global cooling set in. Even in the south, temperatures reached -60 degrees. It's hard, comrades, to believe in the good Even the landscape feels dead Last year we only ate frozen food This year we're finishing off the frozen "South" is like an extra inscription on a compass The word "warmth" is something from the past Here I said it and shuddered a little It's empty, as if hollow As if there were no world without snow The white steppes weren't everyday There was no storm in N-ten-three Instead of N-burg there was always only ashes Place and time have lost their meaning The measure of normality has crashed to the ground I love less than days only nights And I deftly juggle coma with insomnia