Настасья Явцева - Намного меньше - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Will - the sea. We wriggle in a lack of words, drink and press ourselves with beauty, standing, as if on a shot. In the palms - bare breasts with an open essence - we die. We are bad.

Will - the sea. By wounds - shame; All the vices of the prophet are the burden of the poet. I saw the best minds of my generation. I saw them all - with distorted faces from talent leprosy, with adored esophagus and cold hands like marble.

We wanted so much! And it is necessary - much less.

The will - to the wind that has raised my tongue in the cradle, and tempers it. I also see your flame languages, which are stewed by small firefighters with missing facial features. Their eyes pulsate, excited, and the worthless jackets are torn at the seams. Burn them - I am pouring on a flared up Sabantui.

Will - to the wind. With your hands, chop the beauty before the execution. Tel to the embrasure - on the bar. No, not heroes, but fallen. So low.

We wanted so much! And it is necessary - much less.

Will - Earth. We will all be there, we are all standing on one, she wears everyone - does it take out? Forward with your feet or upside down, while we are rinsed with poems. And she will eat bullets, and knives, and pain. I saw them all! And they will all be there if I do not capture their face distorted by the talent on the subcortex of the universe.

Will - Earth! The harsh herds of the stupid -headed, ready to self -blurate themselves before the anal.

We wanted so much! And it is necessary - much less.