Song meaning of Конец Империи (End of Empire) by Слава КПСС (Slava KPSS)

Well, well, well, looks like we have a bit of a rebel on our hands here with Слава КПСС and his song "End of Empire". He's taking us on a stroll through the city, where he's bumping into "Brat" (translated as "brother" but could also be referring to the Russian crime film by the same name) left and right. Life is apparently like a scene from a Balabanov film, which means it's pretty messed up. Kant would say that things aren't even in themselves, which means they're kind of a hot mess. And speaking of messes, there are condoms all over the place - seriously, who gave them a grant? The city has got arteries made of dark asphalt, which makes getting around at night a real blood clot. Our rebellious protagonist would move to London, but he's no dandy. It's like he was a durian (a fruit famous for its pungent smell) that was spammed by Wikipedia. And these streets are a haven for the lost and disillusioned, including those who hail from the town of Neveria - sounds like a place where nothing ever happens. The tower above the city is not presided over by a mayor, but by Beria (a reference to Lavrentiy Beria, a notorious Soviet politician). This empire only exists as long as it feeds on the flesh of others, which is probably something Valera Todorovsky would have told you if you asked him. Yep, it's a strange land we're in, folks. There are warning bells ringing all over the place - they've been playing on loop like a sampled beat. But the king's entourage is only pushing the tempo. Maybe they're scared like transphobes, but the West is coming at us like a tank. There's an inferno, a vermouth, and a zombie farm, and if you want to be a guru like Alexei German, then, hey, go ahead, I guess. Propaganda? Real talk, people. And our people will commemorate Ragnarok as a sign of happiness. The power brokers are going to take a beating from those who oppose them. If you're into bloody steak like Mad Dog, then be prepared for a bloodbath. The forecast is for three days of bloody rain. But wait, there's some good news - the protagonist is walking around a paradise-like city, pushing and shoving like an epic fail. How many of these hopeless winters has he seen? This island fortress is actually a mountain called Garizim, where every line written is like blood for a suicidal zine. His heart is pounding like a thousand atom bombs. He's going to avenge the oppressed and the insulted. It's basic instinct, kind of like when Palestinians open fire on a shop. The road to the holy city is like Gorgoroth, and soon the flood will come and Kubrick will be dead. Yeah, he knows it's brutal, but it's not his fault that the orange was squeezed. One more time, people, Mark means Marxism. Death to the oppressors! Our people will get you on your knees. And now, what are you? A body like a dakimakura that will wilt in five seconds. You don't need Japanese girls and tentacles to get you off. Power to the people!