Текст песни SIMAGA - последняя сигарета

Last Cigarette smoke leaves
I am left with only nicotine
and he knows that will not let go
and that in the end it will destroy
Last Cigarette smoke leaves
I am left with only nicotine
and he knows that will not let go
and that in the end it will destroy

1.vrode have recently this court was not so thick
has always been considered a leader , but remained a simple
as his children who grew up long ago
with the motto always fight for his word
among jagged slabs and old home
where ever the dust under your feet boys
here guitar sounded in unison with the voice
familiar motifs in spite of all the yards
a pair of red bottles with cheap water of
sit quietly
just enjoy the smoke
morning woke me one of my homies
the cut in his father's patefonchik muzlo cheerful
on the benches discussing the night view of the window
who when where and with whom and for what purpose
I did not care
we smoked with all the guys in the stairwell cheap tobacco fasting sneak always have a place
Evening make plans
and then how it
whether it's hot or the sky will frown
questioning a consequence of yesterday
who is right who is wrong again looking for extreme

Now everyone has their own game
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
the truth lies in the bosom
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
force is always a brother
for boys from my yard ( from my yard)
these houses remind us those years
which would not have been
boys from my yard ( from my yard)

day something in the garage iterate
dreaming about something locomotives embarks
we did not put what age and how much weight
then any small batch can arrange
and let in the yard a lot of accumulated machines
mother spoke strictly stay at home son
but I did not listen , and saw how things change
everything is difficult in this game becomes
and we did not choose to live on what we scenario
what is the genre I still do not know
the yard and the boys brought together a
way to choose what it means to believe
every where it builds his happiness
disappearing or staying in touch with me
and can be as these shoes again
go through the land of the native court

Now everyone has their own game
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
the truth lies in the bosom
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
force is always a brother
for boys from my yard ( from my yard)
these houses remind us those years
which would not have been
boys from my yard ( from my yard)

Now everyone has their own game
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
the truth lies in the bosom
boys from my yard ( from my yard)
force is always a brother
for boys from my yard ( from my yard)
these houses remind us those years
which would not have been
boys from my yard ( from my yard)