And he doesn't look at her enough
|
Not brave enough
|
Wants to get that meat today
|
After all, he is not vegan enough,
|
But there's not enough Remy in the glass
|
After all, there is not enough cache with you
|
So for his already considerable years
|
He didn't do enough
|
Whispers in the ear with the words of a poet
|
Something gentle enough
|
She put her hands on his knees
|
Jeans enough Bershka
|
Bridges coming soon, they call a taxi
|
Enough in a hurry
|
In the back seat, he caressed her legs
|
Fingers enough between
|
Frosty morning, for yesterday's love
|
He has insufficient memory
|
Her head is on the pillow
|
It would seem that this is happiness and envy
|
The smell of scrambled eggs and curry in his communal apartment
|
In a badly furnished bedroom
|
In order not to be so lonely, it is not enough for him to insert
|
In order not to roar in front of him on the floor
|
She doesn't have enough rod
|
He, like everyone else, hit her in the face: "Bitch!"
|
He is still quite polite
|
The drunk fell asleep only on the third day
|
He holds her enough
|
She ran away there at night without a jacket,
|
And the city is snowy enough
|
With dances, songs, allegedly on the escalator
|
Down like Jacob's Ladder
|
We all live in our own different worlds,
|
But we all die the same
|
Up there they will show you a fist
|
You will drag down dejectedly,
|
And down there they'll just spit on you, fool
|
And thrown into the trash, fool
|
With dances, songs, allegedly on the escalator
|
Down like Jacob's Ladder
|
We all live in our own different worlds,
|
But we all die the same
|
Up there they will show you a fist
|
You will drag down dejectedly,
|
And down there they'll just spit on you, fool
|
And thrown into the trash, fool
|
Everyone told her that time would heal,
|
But there are still enough abrasions
|
In front of the monitor, she will again sit up late -
|
Boss doesn't pay enough
|
Left alone after work
|
With broken plans for the day
|
The colleague pressed her hard enough against the closet —
|
He's not enough in the back
|
Husband with her best friend
|
Last year I drove off somewhere to the south
|
Since then, she has enough Novopassit or Ladiomil
|
She wants to forget about troubles
|
That's why she sits alone in a dress in a bar
|
And for today it is quite simple for her
|
So that the guy is not an oligarch and a bandit
|
Whispers in the ear with the words of a poet
|
Something gentle enough
|
She put her hands on his knees
|
Fuck it, not Versace, but Bershka
|
Bridges coming soon, they call a taxi
|
Enough in a hurry
|
She looks into his blue eyes:
|
They give hope
|
Around or needless erratic, or elite
|
Or dirt or rhinestones
|
She is not tall enough, she wants to take off
|
So that brightly and immediately
|
She will expose her body, removing everything superfluous
|
Like cutting diamonds
|
Now the window is closed for the flight to her kitchen
|
And enough gas
|
With dances, songs, allegedly on the escalator
|
Down like Jacob's Ladder
|
We all live in our own different worlds,
|
But we all die the same
|
Up there they will show you a fist
|
You will drag down dejectedly,
|
And down there they'll just spit on you, fool
|
And thrown into the trash, fool
|
With dances, songs, allegedly on the escalator
|
Down like Jacob's Ladder
|
We all live in our own different worlds,
|
But we all die the same
|
Up there they will show you a fist
|
You will drag down dejectedly,
|
And down there they'll just spit on you, fool
|
And thrown into the trash, fool |