найтивыход, перерывпятьминут - продрогший голос - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

It is cold in the city, despite my shyness. I cut the route right through passers -by and crowds, it remains to notice how rooks from the south fly home home to the north. In the dilapidated people were forgotten, and your SMS found me. When it was terrible, all those fucked up on Loki and cool, after all, again to find themselves among strangers, gloomy faces. And he drowned in himself, he sat at home for days when a snowstorm roared in the windows, and I was happy about everyone with a stronger word again. Carcinum was not cut out, bronchitis and malaise, survival one at a time. In the labyrinths of the houses, chop the skin with skin with skin under water, in the bathroom or maybe the sea. And it seems to me that this is not worth it. Compare when their native houses did not seem partly acquaintances. We lived only for a week by irony apart. Maybe it is worth remaining in itself the crescent of the bird with the repetitions of the pack again to the south of the dairy packages. The fact that they were looking for definitely again in myself for a week, or maybe it gives up more, and there, you look, and spring snot in fragmented couples in betrayals and frosty feelings were expensive. We survived the winter, and my kitty holds with me and with my paw playfully on my cheeks, the breaks are striking: I'm sorry, dear, this world was not made for you by my sister, who I did not have and pulled my blankets on my head, dear, I never I’ll look at you, as my first love told me at the boy, and I slowly twisted the wipes in me, dear, without the recipe, I won’t sell you a pharmacist, and I chose a cheaper vodka at a discount. Sorry, dear, your life is fluoxetine and phenosepam, and I get out of a car filled with fillings for coffins cold in the city, despite the month of April outside the window, despite the good in the world. The cold remains, like the lines written by me on the sheets of toilet paper. Before you are born, think, your dear fuck you all this is necessary for the results. They will not love you, they will not understand you, you will remain superfluous, like a trace of an airplane. And most importantly, it’s cold here, but for some reason people are doused later. You will have to make a tattoo on the whole hand to hide traces from cuts made in childhood. It is cold in the city, friend. coldly pre -marine. And here they disdain with you