| For changing lines, I've got no time tonight
|
| In these times the wind surpasses the tide
|
| Ye-ee, ey, ee-ee, ey, ey
|
| You start to listen, you look for the meaning in it
|
| Not understanding who wrote this verse, kitty
|
| The main thing is that he is not licked, and not in the fight for a prize
|
| New season, autumn, you haven't heard anything like this before
|
| I will not stop loving those with whom we breathe in time
|
| Keep your nose up, you are not a mouse
|
| Killed but not by you elegantly demolish your roof
|
| For those who are against, as usual, their mouths are sewn up
|
| For you, there is more truth here, less lies.
|
| Here old wounds blunt knives
|
| The one who fucked once on the move lay dick on him
|
| And do not even regret, here the process itself is important
|
| You praised yourself for a long time, in the end it turned out to be crap
|
| Pizdabol with experience, you cook porridge from your shit
|
| You do not respect not yourself, not elders
|
| The one who has something to say is silent, he is puzzled
|
| And your wounds resemble assholes, torn assholes
|
| What ahueli from my line, and choked on McNuggets
|
| Chicken McNuggets, there's Haggis for your wounds
|
| Pampers and your strength is weakness
|
| And your stupidity breeds anger
|
| In your ears I'm just a guest |
| For your old wounds I am a broken bone
|
| I'm a broken cane, how do you like this news?
|
| When the wake-up's hard to find
|
| Dreams make up for your life
|
| You know, because without a frame there is no picture, statues without clay
|
| Just to live and be the product of someone's broken rubber
|
| In this fashion store, smash the windows
|
| It seems love has the smell of a wet dog
|
| The world is turning into gravy
|
| The hard voice immediately changed to a snotty one.
|
| Fuck you confused grapes and olives?
|
| But how did I get fed up with this cheering refrain
|
| I pull the stopcock, with my head in the ocean
|
| Turning off my soul like a flickering screen
|
| Fuck need a man, we don't need a man
|
| The man is an empty glass, the owner of old wounds
|
| My body in the interior is like a smoky sofa
|
| Pain is like a bird on a plane, locked in a suitcase
|
| Your protest is like a middle finger, but it's broken in half
|
| It gnaws at me that I inflict all the wounds on myself
|
| And hatred again starts the locomotive in a circle
|
| Be very generous, and give your girlfriend to a friend
|
| How many dedicated people are indebted to you?
|
| Urine write out an arc, then muttering a blizzard under his breath |
| Unbearable, masterpieces also beat
|
| Go into yourself for five minutes and never come back
|
| You can also suffocate from the air
|
| To heal the wounds you need to tighten deeper
|
| To forget in the old entrance, smoke plants
|
| Fuck out of boredom to please your laziness
|
| From extreme to extreme, but sober is difficult
|
| And I'm not averse to fucking myself that a little bit is possible
|
| And it is unlikely that the brain would forget these old wounds
|
| What remain inside squeezing like traps
|
| Sometimes you can't leave to be yourself
|
| Where this doll world drowns you with your head
|
| I'm already sick, God, of these gloomy utopias
|
| From this miserable system where crowds of cobbled copies
|
| So hard in the midst of the darkness to carry a person
|
| But there is no way out to be killed, then rolling both centuries
|
| In a crazy mental dance, your wounds bleed
|
| You won't even come to your senses, they will de-energize you
|
| Use hundreds of techniques that flow into one
|
| You can't see your bottom in the reflection of the sky
|
| And everything flowed, and glass cuts wounds
|
| And the walls put pressure on the feeling, and twist in thoughts one
|
| Like worms in the mud, they want to get deeper |
| People are not people here at all, you just let them right there
|
| Ay, somehow fuck everything, my hat has been lying for a long time
|
| It's not bad, but it might get better someday
|
| Among the houses where dullness hides homeless faces
|
| Today is just the day when the desire to forget
|
| Areas-wounds, mother's tears. |
| Life goes to hell early
|
| Grams, veins, walls are choking. |
| Dries scan, souls burn
|
| Areas-wounds, mother's tears. |
| Life goes to hell early
|
| Grams, veins, walls are choking. |
| Dries scan, souls burn
|
| Areas-wounds, mother's tears. |
| Life goes to hell early
|
| Grams, veins, walls are choking. |
| Dries scan, souls burn
|
| Areas-wounds, mother's tears. |
| Life goes to hell early
|
| Grams, veins, walls are choking. |
| Dries scan, souls burn |