The singer, Shnur, sang: In the black-black city on black-black nights, Doctors and ambulances blackened by the lights, Drive merrily along while they sing a song of lies, In the black-black city, people die like flies! But I don’t give a flying...fuck!... Shnur sent the microphone into the audience. About three hundred young people were standing around and dancing. The audience shouted: “...I’m made — of meat!!!” Everyone jumped and sang. Lapin jumped and sang with them. Ilona, nearby, was doing the same: 17 years old, tall, thin, with a lively laughing face, leather pants, platform shoes, a white top. “Farewell, Point!” Shnur shouted. The audience whistled. “Awesome, right?” Ilona nudged Lapin in the side with her fist. “Let’s get drinks before everyone lines up!” he shouted in her ear.
