Текст песни В моих жилах течет голод - Анорексия

Thin wrist, red thread
Drowning in the open arms of eternity,
And in the hands of the dark mark - infinity,
Sign of the pain and infinity.
Best of all wealth - is anorexia,
Her eyes and smile false-deception,
Thin bones - as it is beautiful!
Collarbone and hips like a sweet fog ...
Fragile feet, delicate hands,
And for breakfast - the sun, at dinner - the moon,
At night I can not sleep, but that's not the flour.
Flour - be persistent and to win the war.
With whom are we fighting? With the lack of understanding,
With a cargo of insults and fragments of phrases,
With our two-faced obscure consciousness,
Who will win - it all depends on us.
But now that we have left?
Red thread in our hands,
Past life that will not return back,
And before his death, the fear of the unknown ...