Where is the house where we were warmed with warmth
|
well-worn nanny
|
Where is the gentle flame again
|
And as if we were changed
|
We sleepily ignited with warmth
|
From memories
|
Running from the mass of throwing
|
Diploma and passport for memory
|
And let everything be cloudy, melt
|
It will be dangerous on the edge
|
Hold on tighter with your hands
|
God sent in vain
|
I remember a lot of people
|
Vomiting on the windowsill
|
Rooms in the society of children
|
Rotting in the gates
|
Near puppet death
|
Lies in an embrace with the law
|
And trample the path out of town
|
Icon finished at home
|
Coming home
|
And there is no return ticket
|
I am going back home
|
To look into their eyes
|
Nobody will return
|
Childhood swollen fridays
|
Ashes will fall
|
On the faces of kitchen drunkards
|
Thanks for all
|
For many years in the cellars
|
Thanks for all
|
Hello mom, hello dad
|
My house seems to be unoccupied
|
It's hard to go straight
|
But I enter the yard
|
And he is shrouded in drunken silence
|
I'm standing at the door with a lump
|
They will open for me soon
|
My plan is painfully risky
|
But I'm pretty relaxed
|
And everything is dumped on the roof
|
And there is no door in the pantry,
|
But you got out
|
Not at its stop - heart
|
I hate to live
|
But I won't get drunk from the neck
|
I hate that glass
|
that is half empty
|
I remember the first sunset
|
I rushed to my parent's house
|
They will pour me into a glass
|
Hello parental duty,
|
But the verdict has been prepared
|
And I with the ease of tears
|
Spilling on the floor
|
All these containers of gasoline
|
Nobody will return
|
Childhood swollen fridays
|
Ashes will fall
|
On the faces of kitchen drunkards
|
Thanks for all
|
For many years in the cellars
|
Thanks for all
|
Hello mom, hello dad |