It's so hard to leave what takes years
|
Sound through the cities, I spent my time here
|
In the cold, rain or hail - a pen, a square sheet
|
With thoughts until the morning, I stay here happy friend
|
No city fuss, no reminders how to live
|
In this wilderness of the night, talking about everything close
|
And you are where I am not, where the light is dim,
|
And I'm not on stage, it's hard for me when you get angry
|
Faces that give joy, now I will give you
|
I sincerely miss your eyes, believe me
|
And it was no coincidence that I saw open doors
|
Forever lost in winter and summer
|
Even when there is no time
|
And I'll hang in rap specifically
|
In general, all the best and fair wind
|
I'm here for a long trip and I think I did the right thing
|
Chorus.
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
It's time for the family
|
It's time for couples
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
Hare - harosh by clubs
|
Yes to bars
|
Lesha Maetro:
|
And I'm stuck here, I'll rather stick in the tram
|
Than among the boys, yes, I sometimes drink
|
He is not faithful to the church, but he christened his son for one and a half
|
I saw a nun in Moscow with a fourth iPhone
|
I didn’t listen to my father, listen, in the end, here I am |
I write these poems to the beat of which year I
|
Plans to have a rest in warm countries
|
Swim in the ocean on the islands in Taiwan
|
Mani-mani-mani Zhigulevskoe in the bath
|
Wines of Kuban somewhere on Abakan,
|
Why not? |
Strive for growth under toasts
|
Not observing fasts
|
Chorus.
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
This music gives me the price will blow
|
Through the yards through the couples
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
This music gives me the price will blow
|
Through the yards through the couples
|
Fisca:
|
Hello, dear, don't wait, I won't come home today
|
I am where there are no windows and alcohol warmed my soul
|
Where the microphone is like a best friend, and this is my way
|
And in the club hundreds of hands quicken my pulse
|
My gray life against the shine of your windows
|
Wake me up when it becomes easier to live here
|
I promised to dedicate a couple of lines here to you
|
So: “Dear throw me! |
After all, I am completely without prospects "
|
I knock down the soles of sneakers and raise dust
|
Where is the place in the sun? |
I can not find him
|
When it freezes fucking even in hot summer
|
Who will help you when you don't want it yourself?
|
Atri:
|
Monotonous everyday life, no one will judge anyone |
Not getting to the bottom of the matter
|
Do not blame me if loved ones are somewhere in the distance
|
Not one Natalie, my sorrows won't quench
|
Stuck. |
Straining with family distance
|
Train tears, five-minutes at the stations
|
Time hardens, time covers with armor
|
Hawai majors, hawala fucked up boys
|
Only you, only the warmth of your hands
|
Zafaluet club side vicious circle
|
So quiet, left myself on your doorstep
|
You are somewhere there, but I am here in Yekaterinburg
|
I breathe deeper, I breathe more often
|
I think about the future, I think about the present
|
Play in the box, the time is not right
|
After all, the era rolls with an invigorating stream
|
Chorus.
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
This music gives me the price will blow
|
Through the yards through the couples
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
This music gives me the price will blow
|
Through the yards through the couples
|
Lycia:
|
You judge me, we are not judged in this world
|
I myself sometimes get lost in these stone slabs
|
In cold winds where it is dreary
|
And only a word in a line gives me strength again
|
I am sick. |
This poison in me feelings of thirst
|
This is the alignment for me and I put everything on the map |
Fate's noose tortures my spirit
|
But I'm not afraid, I won't bend while the pulse beats
|
Heard somewhere near the rustle of pages
|
So someone is building their own world again where there is life
|
So soon warm words will warm our souls
|
Heal our wounds who are wounded since childhood
|
It is useful to be easier for us to change ourselves,
|
But not everyone is given the opportunity to rise up, into their own circles
|
Where the path leads only God knows
|
I appreciate what there is in life, but I don't put a price tag on love
|
Chorus.
|
Come on, come on, come on, come on
|
Seven string guitar
|
This music gives me, the price will blow
|
Through the yards through the couples |