Quit smoking, quit wandering
|
I quit looking, I quit catching;
|
I thinned out the ranks of communication, brought them to a thread,
|
It became difficult to be, it became boring to live.
|
People are deaf, mean, dumb,
|
I'm on the run from them, I forgot what the weekend means.
|
It's time to whine now, yes, but whining is not ours.
|
It's time to go to sleep. |
Yes, but what's next?
|
You, x * d, understand what to roll for you at the right time.
|
Fuck understand who collects the dance floors.
|
Now it's so hard to take your face off your mobile.
|
Indigo children? |
No, imbecile schoolchildren.
|
As if life doesn't teach us anything.
|
Then, it happens as usual, op, moment and chance.
|
Then, we delve into ourselves, look at the ceiling, turn gray,
|
Oh, and we're growing up fast.
|
I went home and cursed to myself,
|
He hit a passer-by with his shoulder and immediately apologized.
|
I thought about time, but there is simply no time.
|
He spat, shot a cigarette.
|
Chorus:
|
And the sun shines and snow in the face,
|
The heart is pounding, it's dark in the soul;
|
And there is more ash than fire.
|
We are served from the palm of our hand, but we eat from the knife.
|
And the sun shines and snow in the face,
|
The heart is pounding, it's dark in the soul;
|
And there is more ash than fire.
|
We are served from the palm of our hand, but we eat from the knife.
|
Fly, fly, my soul, we are too crowded here.
|
Don't get lost, find your place.
|
Give everyone an illusion, little poison,
|
We so often forget that the important thing is nearby.
|
I loved adventures, I almost found ...
|
Thank God alive!
|
Drawn to dark places, fun only at night,
|
As a child, I often heard that I would end up badly.
|
We only live once, I leaked all the negativity,
|
Sometimes, completely exhausted, but we continue to swim.
|
We get lost in everyday life, in the noise of roads, people without faces,
|
Dumb types, and to the edge of stupid beaks.
|
I know how to score on everything, that's the only way.
|
I don't know how to live, but don't teach me, fool.
|
What's the point of complaining with folded hands?
|
Having cut the tongue, we continue to eat from the knife.
|
Chorus:
|
And the sun shines and snow in the face,
|
The heart is pounding, it's dark in the soul;
|
And there is more ash than fire.
|
We are served from the palm of our hand, but we eat from the knife.
|
And the sun shines and snow in the face,
|
The heart is pounding, it's dark in the soul;
|
And there is more ash than fire.
|
We are served from the palm of our hand, but we eat from the knife.
|
December, 2015. |