Look how it is today
|
They roll into a bright future
|
Riding exercise bikes
|
And when they get into hell, they get burned, they change the vector
|
And death notes are handed over for verification
|
Only the meaning is buried, and a cross is put on top
|
All that is, pedal monotonously
|
So get out and be faster than the second hand
|
Don't smudge on the wall
|
People go to the goal like letters, and they get into envelopes in carriages
|
Rejecting the life of another flatly
|
What dough are you from, it doesn't matter from whose bakery
|
We are just scrolling frames
|
Those who changed their Gerda for Barbie without question
|
Because here the demand is not for your subtext
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, immobilized
|
Probably darkness awaits us on all these fronts if we survive,
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, rendered harmless
|
Filled stomachs in remotes and became unnaturally rabid
|
There are roses on your table
|
Cuts on the wrists
|
Arrows won't move back
|
Canceling the contours on the asphalt
|
And roll into arrests
|
crystals inside
|
In the world you are garbage
|
Something pushes you to the same loop
|
This club of fuckers
|
It's not hard to be a voodoo doll
|
Queues at the turnstile smell bad
|
You wrote yourself a clean copy - this is a new life,
|
But he is dust and in an urn
|
We are just a bundle of energy
|
We were created drunk to death
|
So that one of us could get through,
|
And someone get confused
|
You will be squandered like a film, after half a century they will repaint
|
Under the songs of Deep Purple looked at reality and the conclusion was cool to be dead
|
In an empty new building in a tiny kitchen, a giant grater cardboard walls
|
spread the cry of a child
|
So time by the tail gently pulls you
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, immobilized
|
Probably darkness awaits us on all these fronts if we survive,
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, rendered harmless
|
Filled stomachs in remotes and became unnaturally rabid
|
I remember that day with you I almost went crazy
|
Mixing cannabis with mushrooms
|
And what now, since then, we have been squandering life
|
Now we are sick of poetry
|
Standing at the edge, you want to live like you should
|
Stable and practical
|
But it is unlikely that another will be able to love me
|
So strong and taxic
|
You loved to say that I am a grief author
|
Not one EP, just booze and weed
|
I'm not young Shakespeare, I'm not Hugo, I'm not Kafka
|
I'm wrong, so shut your mouth bitch don't bark
|
I was like everyone else in a hurry at the beginning
|
I cleaned the snow and did not sleep at night,
|
But I will rather choose to rot in the barracks again
|
Than your love for me and live in marriage
|
To forgive your pity
|
Not understanding all the vulgarity
|
Knowing that you fucked him
|
My house is Lord
|
I have no pity left for her
|
I would beat her to death
|
To go crazy in old age
|
From remorse...
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, immobilized
|
Probably darkness awaits us on all these fronts if we survive,
|
And we do not choose a difficult path just because the batteries are discharged, rendered harmless
|
Filled stomachs in remotes and became unnaturally rabid |