We are loli and lolicon, we have moths full of ziplocks
|
Papier-mâché suit at Comic-Con, and push that shit there
|
The coffee table is littered
|
Clippings from the artbook and photos from the lookbooks
|
We hide inside
|
And it is no longer the blood that freezes in the veins, but freon flows through the veins
|
Bookmark in the ventilation shaft
|
I'll be around in the business center, but in the rehearsal room
|
It's creepy, I'll teach her how to be a ninja
|
Look for me in a den on the base of the pyramid
|
Lunar prism will give her strength to fight good
|
We are not hostages of fate, we are only slaves of slaves
|
Who are these rags from Aliexpress? |
I'll show you where all the forbidden fruits are
|
You can take them all (absolutely)
|
You're just a courier girl
|
Just "one of" in the club unintelligent miss
|
They listen to me and experience frisson
|
Put next to the star in Madame Tussauds,
|
But I'm a rogue, an eternal rogue
|
And there are millions of them in the Milky Way (yeah)
|
Believe me, I held the candle for a long time (for a long time)
|
Brought up by a goddess, glorified, but stupid
|
But I can shoot nicely with two hands
|
And professionally stomp the dream
|
I am that fly in the ointment in a barrel of honey
|
False image, source of pain
|
Heart-rending scream, in full voice
|
Waste monster, black crow
|
I will fall at the feet of the devil
|
I believe he remembers me (huh?)
|
He will give me life on Earth (Fuck?)
|
To fill the ranks of the underworld
|
You experience frisson, but I've been silent for a long time
|
I no longer dream, only a black background
|
The dead don't suffer
|
Feeling frisson, but I've been silent for a long time
|
I no longer dream, only a black background
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
I need a Colt 1911
|
Playing Russian roulette with a semi-automatic
|
By moonlight or lava lamps, (lava lamps)
|
To make everything look creepy like a theatrical
|
'Cause anyway, I'm dead
|
And my whole fanbase is experiencing Stockholm Syndrome
|
Space garbage in their minds, and offhand
|
Close people in their hearts are like foreign bodies
|
(Let me justify myself), if alcohol, then only imports,
|
And I'm for stay on the legs, that's why I drink so rarely
|
There are no colors on the sketches, open your eyes wider
|
'Cause all you see is a preview
|
Naked ambition, (at all), my city is bible-obsessed
|
(Crazy) is the cost of the province of Nu,
|
But looking around panoramic (look)
|
You see only developmental delays
|
Yes, I'm more and more devil, less and less angel
|
Less and less attention, more and more danger
|
More and more ranger and hope fade
|
And time is money, but the system will endure
|
When wine spills on a white shirt
|
(Chateau), or the light will shed
|
My immature loli will go out the window
|
Under my voice in your head
|
After all, I'm the same fly in the ointment in a barrel of honey
|
False image, source of pain
|
Heart-rending scream, in full voice
|
Waste monster, black crow
|
And I will fall again at the feet of the devil
|
I know he remembers me (yeah)
|
He will give me life on Earth (you know)
|
To fill the ranks of the underworld
|
You experience frisson, but I've been silent for a long time
|
I no longer dream, only a black background
|
The dead don't suffer
|
Feeling frisson, but I've been silent for a long time
|
I no longer dream, only a black background
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer
|
The dead don't suffer |