| “Perhaps this is a trap.
|
| - And there is. |
| What do we do?
|
| - Let's break through!
|
| There are normal types, there are *way guys.
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| Minor notes lay on guitar strings.
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| In short, everything is clear, everything is elementary.
|
| The ship is sinking, the bolts are on the phone.
|
| Plus, the most needed number was lost.
|
| You say that you are not in the subject, like you are not in the share.
|
| That those types fooled you, but you didn't understand.
|
| From now on, you will be aware, in fact, the step is sticky.
|
| Someone dries crackers, someone eats olives.
|
| Here, even for gray credit cards.
|
| Listen, don't stick your nose out of the gate.
|
| Braza, debts are growing like metostases.
|
| Skyscrapers are collapsing, the frame is cracking.
|
| The factories are smoking, the merchants are withdrawing cash;
|
| And someone presses with a mass on a pissed mattress.
|
| And either we will put them - or we will be put against the wall;
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| Diluted with bright red gray shades.
|
| Snot in prohibitions brother, but do not forget at the same time.
|
| Chorus:
|
| These are the hunters following the trail.
|
| Heed the advice, when you see the light - run!
|
| Until the cozy house was replaced by a cage,
|
| While still tormented by otkhodnyaks.
|
| These are the hunters following the trail.
|
| Having torn off the muzzle, I read poetry to them.
|
| I'll put coins in their eyes.
|
| But where are those damn conductors?
|
| Random connections in non-random events,
|
| Someone would call them dirt, someone development.
|
| And it is no longer possible to convince these vigilant spectators
|
| Make the right choice at the distribution center.
|
| With his back to the platform, he whined like a puppy.
|
| He wanted to stop, but he couldn't.
|
| Stop the dialogue, you fucking inner voice!
|
| The doctor wrote an obituary, but did not give injections.
|
| Having drunk "for peace", carefully packing -
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| It won't hurt, but if it hurts.
|
| If you don't like our clinic - *publish to another!
|
| In short, sniff * uh, you go to the side * uh -
|
| With your problems, demons.
|
| The topic is full of flies, * flies.
|
| The earth will rest in peace for them, fed them with gunpowder.
|
| He dug a grave for an idol and buried it.
|
| There are fears, monks are burning at the stake.
|
| There, the scum rose and fell into darkness.
|
| There bones crunched like peanuts underfoot.
|
| And in anticipation of a fight, I hear dogs barking.
|
| Chorus:
|
| These are the hunters following the trail.
|
| Heed the advice, when you see the light - run!
|
| Until the cozy house was replaced by a cage,
|
| While still tormented by otkhodnyaks.
|
| These are the hunters following the trail.
|
| Having torn off the muzzle, I read poetry to them.
|
| I'll put coins in their eyes.
|
| But where are those damn conductors? |