| The boys and I, as in the past, will sit down and rustle,
|
| In the pocket of seeds and nickels, a seed behind the ear,
|
| Let's smoke a picket for three, bang a full glass
|
| From a jar of home cooking for you, bro.
|
| Do you remember how coffee smells in the morning, how it smells like brushwood,
|
| How scary the city is even at fifteen at night.
|
| Maybe stronger from the first pile than from the last hap
|
| Cough stronger than thirty feet, not much scary.
|
| Where the blizzard rustles through the window sashes.
|
| Where a third-party rustle has flowed into the cracks of the rooms, they will remember.
|
| Where there is a hermit, a crying mother nearby with an icon in sorrow
|
| About where her years have gone.
|
| The vile cold will wake up again and the rain washed away my city,
|
| Father will forgive my ambition, that I joked with love.
|
| White coats mum's cry with the bodies of the fallen fallen brothers,
|
| And now I'm thirty, brothers.
|
| 30 years as a runny nose will pass with caution,
|
| 30 years of exaggerating, it's not scary anymore.
|
| Mom's favorite holiday for 30 years.
|
| 30 years ago, a small one was born.
|
| I've been behaving like a young boy for 30 years.
|
| For 30 years, I have been coughing, crushing plastic.
|
| Mom's favorite holiday for 30 years.
|
| 30 years ago, a small one was born.
|
| from love
|
| Please erase this from my memory.
|
| And time will tell, remains child's play
|
| The hero of honor will not be fate.
|
| And somewhere in a small bunch under the visors
|
| Matches burned at night like moths.
|
| erase five pages from my memory,
|
| So far, they burned like moths.
|
| The boys and I, as in the past, will sit down and rustle,
|
| In the pocket of seeds and nickels, a seed behind the ear,
|
| Let's smoke a picket for three, bang a full glass
|
| From a jar of home cooking for you, bro.
|
| Not to become stronger as in 20, not to become just like a herd,
|
| Everyone who reaped the crab for me is with the truth next to me, I don’t need others.
|
| Life is in full swing year after year, saving up boxes,
|
| Huts, slippers, gatherings, all in promotional codes.
|
| Koda - as values, not the same,
|
| We are only half way to career as to poverty.
|
| In youth, a cloak for us insanity,
|
| After weakness at bedtime, runny nose, fearfully runny nose.
|
| It’s easier for us to punish than to smooth over, to live for someone
|
| And the essence of people is to spoil for laughter,
|
| To save the drowning, fears cling,
|
| And life is a punisher, we pay, not what they pay - we spend.
|
| 30 years as a runny nose will pass with caution,
|
| 30 years of exaggerating, it's not scary anymore.
|
| Mom's favorite holiday for 30 years.
|
| 30 years ago, a small one was born.
|
| I've been behaving like a young boy for 30 years.
|
| For 30 years, I have been coughing, crushing plastic.
|
| Mom's favorite holiday for 30 years.
|
| 30 years ago, a small one was born.
|
| from love
|
| Please erase this from my memory.
|
| And time will tell, remains child's play
|
| The hero of honor will not be fate.
|
| And somewhere in a small bunch under the visors
|
| Matches burned at night like moths.
|
| erase five pages from my memory,
|
| So far, they burned like moths. |