зауголсебя - машинист - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Why here for a quarter of a century I dropped the question of why here I am the layers between filling the package calling myself with the contents of why I put this bag in motion when the notches cross the arrows of the honed mechanism call me the costume operator from which I will not get out soon or maybe I can cure tomorrow, but I will cure it tomorrow but In the meantime, I’m just a composition of the composition that sleeps on the go in whose pipes I feel the crimson oil and knocks the engine evenly reflecting from the inner walls asking for still polymers and pesticides ignoring the question of why he once put it like a sweater through your throat that touches but the contents In any way, only reactions of the current through the wires can not be touched, they say that this is enough like you/to us drivers in semi-day or coma with a viscous impassable

Hello the driver that I imagined that everything is under control by the devices, observing the indicators normally, it is normally sorted out with supports stubbornly trodden to the paths, but still in captivity of the walls, you are locked up by the contents to yourself that everything is in order and so moving along the rails you hurry, but what smolders inside on You can’t place the skin

I am a cyclic road driver on whom I am tied with a rope to the rail of someone's lives of the same as me and in turn, for some reason, for some reason I also flattened a package to the package, the contents are shaken by the driver is ridiculous among the landscapes of the guts in a hurry in the city for some reason- Then in this casing climbed, you remember the buddy, remember when the wind grabbed you a nurse cut the rope and you fell on a dish with blind and sleepy for them such a loud and sharp half-vizg half-ston, you said they said they are all ahead of you, but you are eager. .. Marking

Hello the driver that I imagined that everything is under control by the devices, observing the indicators normally, it is normally sorted out with supports stubbornly trodden to the paths, but still in captivity of the walls, you are locked up by the contents to yourself that everything is in order and so moving along the rails you hurry, but what smolders inside on You can’t place the skin