May has come, the window's got a haze, I dig that red Aeroflot stewardess' gaze. The food's alright, coffee with a slice of limone, Craving tomato juice, it's about that time on. Beneath the wing, the Urals stretch so wide,Siberian taiga, where the birds glide. Dali's dreams can't paint these endless skies, Lake Baikal flashes by, then on to Sakhalin lies. In every city, I'm a man on a mission, Following the program with a single vision. ▌ Chorus: To the right hour, with a precise command,Into a house that's neither cruel nor grand. The rules of creation, we all understand. We wait in line, check the schedule's hand, Silence. Our phones across this frozen land. A blind lady's sword, a phone she won't demand.. .▌ Verse 2: The pre-trial briefing, we've rehearsed the part, They ask us what we carry in our heart. File a couple motions, get the satisfaction, We're back in the cycle, on this perfect traction. The hotel and the taxi, the hearing's on the list, Great, I'll hit the museum, grab a tourist trinket I can't resist. The return trip's booked, the cab, the bed, Buckle your belts, the window shade is spread. ▌ Chorus: To the right hour, with a precise command,Into a house that's neither cruel nor grand. The rules of creation, we all understand. We wait in line, check the schedule's hand, Silence. Our phones across this frozen land. A blind lady's sword, a phone she won't demand.. .▌ Outro:We live our lives out in a desert bare, A wasteland empty, without a prayer. No cells to hold us, no lines to cross,I've seen Russia's soul, not counting the loss. I'm not a lawyer, I'm a tourist of the court, A traveler of justice, a last resort. ▌ Chorus: To the right hour, with a precise command,Into a house that's neither cruel nor grand. The rules of creation, we all understand. We wait in line, check the schedule's hand, Silence. Our phones across this frozen land. A blind lady's sword, a phone she won't demand..
