Ресторатор - Привычки - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The past habits- I wandered away, like a Malet interrogated, I was thrown in this field with a filled face, the chances of reaching the highway in vain, I sneaked to the edge- there is red and it does not let the infection. But over and over again, with my mind, I tried to fold different parts of the puzzle, but I was angry with the fact that I did not enter your nurse

Like cheese in oil- you are like a vaselin-hastl, go to the ass for landing, I knock down a hat with a raze. These songs are all over the world, but my tracks are for eight. If you need to take it, but return it back if it angers you, because all that remains of my thoughts. I will abandon this life as a scorched Sigu, like a woman offended, as a phrase in silence. And I’ll start to stomp the soles, but it no longer breathes here- the winds will get the vices.

This is nothing more than a march of suicide bombers - my companions will now not part with Simon Kurnnik’s pouts, for sure I have not found an opponent and my faith will disappear on the Copernicus map.

Pour my secrets stealthily on the 51st page of the palm, leave my cramp my pier and these thoughts are not reptiles for jokes terrible for jokes of miserable I create puzzles

The slings of feelings were torn in time manauled down- fell and did not remember them Rest in Peace

It is useless to hysteria- I need you before Tuesday, and now is still a day of Monday

So the bed is divided in two more 8 hours and this is the main thing. We swim in the lava of feelings melting, let the night rules our temper on the cards of playing your pressure, he is directed by two. Go to the brakes bazaar- eat on gravel. I am heartless, did I keep silent about it right before? Look into the eyes of me- the whole world seems to be frozen, but they will drill the most desperate females, under the castle in the castle on the top floor and the dragon in addition_no, I am in no hurry to close the open window, because the bodies under the balcony are lying again and sorry but it seems not very much but not very After all, each will grow up with a bitch vicious after that night and lines of my handwriting ...

I shot your images, left only pedestrian stripes on my heart

The tone of the voice smell the body of the lips, hair, breathing, but this was mine only earlier, now alien and wounded forever, karma is fixed and the sheets are again torn off the poster, all just on my island I am Robinson, but there is no reason to live until Friday.

And it is better to immediately find out how to become a shame for sleepy soy.