Кровосток. Студень - 5. Куртец - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The other day I decided to unrest in Chulana on the hut

Throw out all the trash in pussy and here are those on those

In the pocket of the old black leather jacket

I find boxes full of kill chuke

I immediately dress this curtain in ninety-fourth on the arrow

Some dick then puck to me a sharp chest, and I fell back to him the knee

After these greetings began the gloomy kneading, but we will not be about meat, the main thing is all fuck and I am here

Kurtard pies like in the cinema, a little higher heart and still lining stains in black blood

But fucking that in your pocket at the bottom as in the past door

Salted full ship by the grass herself

That very, from which even the most bachelites remained without a head

That very, from which even the most chatty became quieter of water

That very, from which even the most famous crashed from nonsense

I remember this ship launched on Wadhehe near Nemona, so that after the arrow to close Male his evil demons

Everything went not quite smoothly, the summer passed in the hospital, the ship with a chuka was forgotten, like other knits

Frequently half left from the ship, and I will only say one thing: "Wouldn't all these hay - shlei and amnesia at the same time"

It's not that shit that right now groves children under artificial light, gray-haired men in the Chui Valley of the hot summer

Such an ISTAF on the "Cannabis Cup", in the entire history of "Cannabis Cup" did not smoke, well, right, and then God forbid, and they would have a Paf - Paf banned

Yes we are one box with each other piles of piles, with whom we did not smoke it and everyone spoke

Rather did not say, some time did not say anything, dry lips were quietly caught, with red eyes in the eye in misunderstood

And when I almost came to myself, fucking, nemes, mocked, headed, nehel again

And how many inexplicable with us under it happened, even Scully and Mulder would not have been disassembled

I remember, we came somehow to the gypsies on a serious grater, I blew up a stuff, the rod was hungry

Then they added oh yelling without any words, silent agreement matured itself inside the heads

These curtains and trace woke up nostalgic feelings, the fact that we, fucking, were doing it was, vature, art

And now there is a stupid shy around, alone sharp and snot, not that then the ringing sounds of life: screams, curses, screams

He knocked back, and something sharply wanted back. Oh God, fuck, how to live then it was nice

Perhaps everything will throw out, and I will leave the curtains for memory, the last thing will be picked up in the chair and I will present a happy old age