Back to the Berkay, in the middle of the Anorak era Paul cuts my coat, my shirt, a green sweater, Flanken calls for Tarkov The animal is animated by a soul that smokes in luminosity The blazing child is endowed with a clear and sharp eye Born to burn, born to burn, first generation of Agités The brain has no flaws, it envisages the adult world Stock, shock and details, images that the great occultists The angel of mortality, of an out-of-reach knowledge In him the souls of desires, of a revolution of gentiles Born to burn, born to burn, first generation of Agités Polyester, polyester, polyester, polyester Don't laugh at him, don't laugh at him, the difference worries The stupid kid who pays his head with jealousy He empathizes, the evil repents The incubate is in danger for the visions that haunt him Rock is a good time, but it will remain polyester Born to burn, born to burn, first generation of Agités Polyester, polyester, polyester, polyester Life flows in silence, and gently, sensitively Atrophy is rising, gently it descends Beat of thoughts, you suffer from not enough A thought chest, feeling of the past Overwhelmed will be those who refuse to trace The progress of the market, of wanting to surpass Overwhelmed will be those who only think of him Who only listen to the facts, who do not exhaust their will Overwhelmed will be those who hide, who hide billions of dollars This shit that spits, all these heads of art This shit that spits, all these heads of art This shit that spits, all these heads of art Polyester, polyester, polyester, polyester Born to burn, born to burn, first generation of Agités Polyester, polyester, polyester, polyester Polyester, polyester, polyester, polyester