The grassroots and upper class - aren´t they wonderful!?

And so easily goes the conversation among us two
You just cover my head with your own hood
and think that fuck, it doesn’t really matter
If it’s already on, guess there’s no point to flatter
and as it’s common in Estonia
and as „clear” and „famous” as onia
The Sun doesn’t shine as brightly for the grassroots
as it does for the upper class boots
as it does ONLY for the upper class
To improve their wellbeing and mass
and don’t be confused, it’s not for us, for the poor
who think that we could be on the top floor
enjoying the quality wine, not knocking on the social care’s door
But yeah, why I think of that right now
and get my head so messy. And wow,
aren’t we actually magnificent, we can share a gin can for six
and find the happiness when beating up a chick
Who will not run to the police and cry for help
and when we find some cash from her, we just melt
When we see the same phizes the next morning
and realize that the fortune-teller had her prophecy in a wrong forming
So that Ben and Jack are still alive after the meeting with felons
And me and you we, still breathe in our addict world, who cares that in front of our eyes there are only marshmallows
Then it briefly seems that the sunshine fondles our heads as well
and the heavenly Father herds us like his uppers-class sheep – oh... I can truly imagine the ethereal bell