Текст песни Они говорят привет - Истерия полутемных дворов

scraps films x Just Kova
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We draw themselves and run the risk of getting burned
To the end that life thoughtlessly throw in the oven
We list features, tearing pages
It is easier if you spread your shoulders
And all the neighbors peretravit
Towards the dream of scorched earth
Survive - here it is the ultimate goal
From the very first minute to the heart valves embroidered.
This beautiful
What eventually becomes a sieve
Cripple rotten thoughts corkscrew.
Sickening.
In the port city would be easier
It treats the sea
And drowns utopia
It blurs the concrete in which wallowed
And the bad taste not there eater
On the banks there is no place lamps
Only lighthouses - guardians of our experiences
Dive.
Towards the call of the subsoil
Among dumb no friends
Among the winter is not green
No news
Only smoke veiled the eyes
A youth - dispenser
The next day isolation
Busyness
And hysteria dim courtyards -
Road each
Every minute
Hear the counter inside.
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Do you hear? Tick-tock seconds, with every meter,
We scatter in the wind rose cherished.
In search of travel of tickets to the point where not assigned.
Nothing caught. Hey?
Already terminated

What do you want insinuating voice, his life turn out?
Not like everyone else? Well overpay.
On the transition to the point & quot; B & quot; raskhuyachit to hell
You, a friendly ring fortune.
And last would be a sad look,
With the gathering of groynes, face to the sea,
That can not save.
The tracings anoint themselves with fresh title,
Empty cram knowledge into his head.
Yes, let us let go of the zeal to save others,
Amen.

Limp in the bitter taste of cumin and incense
Quiet okay so
In the evening, people get lost in the hole or similar,
Torn from a cancer of the soul and to the skin.
Print themselves on the pavement under the drizzle

Unattainable, and so the former, your ultimate goal -
Survive.