Trout
It flows, the river flows
No need to tell the trouts where
They simply already know
Where to go and where not to
And when the moon shines
Young blossoms go to sleep
They dream about their loves
Met in school daily
Socialist utopias are in ruin
Built with blood and sweat
With thought for the people
You can find them under piles of stores
At the same time tho
Sirius shines like always
Reminds us where we are
Every night the sky is clear