This is war
|
Where no one can be saved
|
Those who live until the morning
|
Tomorrow, they will burn at the stake / come out yourself
|
This is war
|
Neither knows,
|
What game is this
|
They are waiting and too late to look / go out yourself
|
Rustle of dresses and juice
|
Flows over the faces of his rock
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it
|
Rustle of dresses and juice
|
Flows over the faces of his rock
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it
|
He opens the ball
|
Lowering the visor
|
Only once in an era without measure
|
Twilight rules destinies
|
Judge muddy people in half
|
All icy skin gets into a mess
|
You can stain a haute couture dress
|
After all, the dress code is glamour.
|
Without jackets
|
Even the Kurds smoke, where chickens have bird flu
|
Where do guests come in
|
At the entrance was like a knight from a portrait
|
The royal look pinched
|
Great
|
Pair of rapiers
|
At the belt. |
only one phobia
|
He did not see love, he drove only by dark forces
|
What is more area
|
Than the whole gothic world
|
Here Edwin
|
Jane Air
|
The smell of sulfur and smog
|
Eyes hurt by a scream
|
And the clatter of feet
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it
|
The smell of sulfur and smog
|
Eyes hurt by a scream
|
And the clatter of feet
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it
|
This is war
|
No one will be saved
|
Those who live until the morning
|
Tomorrow will burn to the end
|
This is war
|
None of them know what the game is
|
They are waiting and too late to look for
|
Rustle of dresses and juice
|
Flows over the faces of his rock
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it
|
Rustle of dresses and juice
|
flowing rock
|
The last ball for those who have been waiting for it |