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