коньяк с вишневым соком - восемь на стороне - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Change of different. Luzing sour cream package in the store.

demonstration. We sleep. movement. In total, the axis around which the world revolves, on it and behind them. The gray are far ahead. Rare steps. payment. Have you decided? Slowly I go one among the same in my screen. The axis around which life spins. The bench press is forgotten. Stot in the head of the events. Forgotten. Already rising as if everything is lower. I barely have dinner, the food is falling out of my mouth. I dreamed of this in the morning - a bed. Filted eyes. Around the cosmos and seems to be tomorrow. I am going to breakfast unnoticed early. And I am already busy, I hurry on the battered line of sidewalks so that I am not again on the paragraph of my truth. The rest was overshadowed by the abolition of another plan. The axis around which we are spinning, around which the world turns smoothly ...

But I, perhaps, held on, ran with his fists clenched, and not a pity. This is the only way. ... In his skin past the mock-dacaks, assholes and the noise of Mishura, empty urns. My legs send me on a tour, where they do not smoke, farther. Kulek of private shacks. Here the air is much better, honestly. You won’t feel. Be completely on the side of the track in the movement towards transport. Not to hell with breathing. The exhaust gases and rain nothing. The axis around which you revolve are forced to be. Dust will not be less. Or the whole world is infinitely lazy .... We are not pulling anything, nothing is hidden. We ourselves are architects of our being. I fall dead on a dusty highway. The axis around which everyone is spinning ... around which everyone is spinning