And they were trample by the machine Those who created the machine And the machine twisted them, Crushed and broke them And they didn't understand They themselves were to blame for their own destruction: These people – the rulers Have become softer than plasticine * Love, if you can love, shine into the world with your soul for in each, by chance: its own beacon is laid. Their creation will destroy them, for those people love nobody and nothing And then the intervention Their soul will recognize Everyone who is to blame. * Love, if you can love, shine into the world with your soul for in each, by chance: its own beacon is laid. Someone will have to again Dissolve the nets of decay, Rekindle in extinguished souls The beacon that they managed to extinguish. And at the line crossed, reflect on the world. Did you live as you wanted, Were the nets of love the right ones? * Love, if you can love, shine your soul into the world, for in each, by chance: there lies a beacon of its own.
