Проект Увечье - Роспечаль - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The spirit is owned over the flesh, only the bed of my complexes would also be flesh

Now behavior about it in Kraz. According to Pad'am fingers, it's not for nothing in vain and crop.

Not commilfo that rap here is just the background and my goal is to give him one of the perfect forms

The whole lie will easily go under the knife. Words are my foot feed. Language for the teeth, as if in the scooter of the court.

I am not an age as a reproach, even though it fell very, but in this craft, the joke wrote all March,

Then she washed the whole mat and the throat squeezed, because there is no letter in which there would be a sad smile

In the window frames shaves ??? The entrances all the luminaire will be pushing under ???

The Creator with the scale of Namudril, when the area of ​​Croil, there would be a paradise of two, Troim, for all herself

Many fed. I was careful, but risked. Good luck Lipla, like Iriska - Wow!

Crosses werehed, Boschka was audited. I was allocated to the nose and in these songs the result outlined.

Colored drawers Gray paints are condensed so at least do not turn

Dirt and promises that on seams like our pipes in frost crack

When it is shifted to us all that will be able to run.

It will not leave the people their own native Rospiner.

To the line snot, sunset gradient in stained glass height

Coffee will turn the night into sleepless. Taxi for hundreds in turns

So hard to express your thoughts about high and

At the same time laugh at chucks in trendy sneakers

My life is a crossover, where the fate of cattle was walked, bass,

What presses on the shops vodka with juice with something special

Erased wisdom, tobacco and face forever disgruntled women

those who could not make me listen to Mendelssohn

NOT PLACE THE MATERIALS OF ENGLISH, WE LOCALLY WHERE SCHOOLS BOOT

like a dark forest under the canopy of heaven that woven from lead

I am devoted to the end of the sullen beauties, garages, kindergarten

And this courtyard, where does not catch a cell.

Fog, like smoke from tobacco above the field. Nutro stupid pulls those who are in the kabaks and this is the way out

But does not give rest or "hunger" Gamsun, or "nausea" Jean-Fields.

The world remains uncomplicated by us, there will not help the Piligrims of AIDS and Hydroponik in the sullen huts, where the Blatnook purries on the background

I heard about Hartland what the toponym means.