Король и Шут — Мёртвый анархист

A blind old mage Wandered through the woods at night. At the graveyard he spilled A magic elixir, And only muttered: "What have I done, old fool…"

Hoy! Hoy-hoy!

Corpses came alive, tore up the ground, Crawled out everywhere, wildly rampaged, Tore at throats, smashed everything around, Ripped their own flesh.

People didn't like this place, Because here they buried scoundrels, They all drank vodka, They were cursed souls.

Among the bastards walked an artist – In a leather cloak, a dead anarchist. He cried: "Hoy! Jaw off!" He led the corpses behind him. Hoy-hoy!

Madly into the village the dead burst in! In the lamplight their mugs showed up, They fought and went all out, Marched to smash the houses.

People took axes and pitchforks, To drive the dead back to their graves, But they didn't have the strength for it – You can't kill the corpses!

Among the bastards walked an artist, In a leather cloak, a dead anarchist. He cried: "Hoy! Jaw off!" He led the corpses behind him. On his hand a frozen fig, From his pocket stuck a pirate flag, All night the zombies shouted: "Hoy! We anarchists are a peaceful folk!"

What delirium, without a warning They attacked the lad, scared him badly. Laughing and shoving, they made the boy Dance the pogo.

Women screamed with all their might, And peasants fled in panic, Corpses died and came alive again, Laughed after the people.

Among the bastards walked an artist, In a leather cloak, a dead anarchist. He cried: "Hoy! Jaw off!" He led the corpses behind him. On his hand a frozen fig, From his pocket stuck a pirate flag, All night the zombies shouted: "Hoy! We anarchists are a peaceful folk!"

In life the artist was a merry soul, And he always loved to get drunk. Morning helped the peasants – The sun burned the corpses in half an hour. But in the silence of the night Someone roared in the cellar: "Hoy!"