Баста - райски яблоки - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I will once die- we once always die- how to guess so, so as not to be in the back with a knife: they spare the killed, buried and pamper paradise- I will not say about the living, and we protect the dead. I hit the mud in the mud, fall asleep more to one side, and the soul will hit the stolen nags in the gallop. In marvelous paradise gardens, I will pick up pale pink apples. It is a pity that the gardens are guarding and shooting without a miss in the forehead. I jumped up - I looked - before the eyes are not heavenly something: the non -true wasteland and a continuous nothing - lawlessness. And among the cast gates towered nothing, and a huge stage - five thousand - sat on his knees. How the indigenous is piercing! I humbled it with a gentle word, but Repie from the wash barely torn off and brave man. The gray -haired old man was busy with the bolt for too long - and grunted and grumbled, and could not open it - and left. And the exhausted people did not emit a single moan, only he suddenly squeezed from the numb knees. Here is raspberries, lads- we are met with a raspberry ringing! Everything returned to the circle, and the crucified above the circle hung. Give us all the benefits, and how much did I demand good? To me - so that there were friends, and my wife - so that he fell on the coffin - well, for them I will pick up pale pink apples. It is a pity that the gardens are guarding and shooting without a miss in the forehead. I recognized the old man by tears on his cheeks of his flabby: this is Peter the saint - he is an apostle, and I am an ostolop. Here are the sides, in which the breakdown of the frozen apples. But the gardens are guarding - and I am killed without a miss in the forehead. And I drove the horses away from the places of these rotten and chilly,- the horses ask for oats, but I also bit the bit. Along a cliff with a whisper with a groove, I will bring a bosom of apples for you: you were waiting for me and from paradise!