перерывпятьминут - дезоморфин - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

the art of hearing a knock of a heart

Volska with ice in a glass

Pass on the fare people entwined with lust

I'm going home to my mother

a pack of Malboro red please no change

Life has become dangerous since I understand that there are things worse than a cigarette poison

Drugs of sociophobia is a non -abdominal tariff of the Internet

Love Raising housing and communal services Religion your eyes green color

As a child, I went to kindergarten early in the morning

never sprinkled and hated him

Then there was a school where they did not love me, although it was mutually, then with dad went to St. Petersburg

The total year of immigration, foggy Albion and San Diego beach

lack of money in high school, for the New Year the smell of yellow snow

Now please tell me for travel people entwined lust

I would do terrible things with you

But you naturally fuck you

My body stopped developing serotonin and I almost do not read the books I go to the touch to the kitchen for cigarettes I beat my little finger and suddenly I remember the summer

It seemed at the time that it was happy, but no it only seemed

all that was in my life is pain and fatigue

I do not open the door to the apartment to her friend, she frantically hits the door with her fists

Now pass on the fare

I'm going home to my mother

where again I can’t swear again and I need to wash my hands before meals

where everyday still changes to mental stagnation

dumb in the museum looking at the work of da Vinci

If I were a cigarette in a pack, I would be twenty -first

superfluous

Do you want not to hold my hand

It won't help me anyway

This is not your ex -guy cuts himself

You damaged him the skin

Do you want not to hold my hand

I'm not interested in you anyway

Take an interpretation eat twix or just die in a dream

How you die a girl

Maybe a drunken taxi driver will drive you

Or will your new sadist guy or die from AIDS will score in perverted games

or from old age, just spit

A little later you will not be remembered

I did not know you this lies

Cheremukha smells on the street

mothers walk with children

Old people pay fragments of democracy for bread

A work of art is considered everything that is odorless from the toilet

These are my two thousandths

allergies, deomorphine, and interjection is

Do you want not to hold my hand

You will not have Happy Enda

You will finish the same way like everyone else

rolled in a reliable Russian cement

Do you want not to hold my hand

Just pass on the fare

in your robbed world

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