Саша Прохоров - Шаг вперёд и два наверх - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Behind me, the air swelled with corns. Long elbows, maple pierced my head, in the smoked heavens near the mezzanine yesterday's semi-bobs blossomed in a new way.

He was visiting everything, as much as the mirrors hid, in the lipstick, turned away, flashing with feelings ... We were pleased with the end of Saturday on Friday. Snow was festering under a three -holly liga ..

I am omnipotent - I got into the universe, gloomed with dowel into a fleshy galaxy. Food my mouth with cunning pickles, Antarctic behaved in a widespread.

Grandmas were blinded, he chatted into his shawls, consciously bit himself for the Russian .. The desperate pulsar in the blood "din-don" rings ... it was time for me not to disdain with snacks ...

Snow with a clusters of the blades was shifted by the curls of court ladies smoking in the square. The spirals of their hairstyle lonely will not flush, they will not ask for more ...

The dogs of the moslay of raw clouds were gloomed, they choked on the warm mash of the May wind. And the sun seemed to be, but incognito .. dew accumulated under the nuclear duckweed ...

And with the god of dialogue I would not want? Then someone unfamiliar was inhabited ... Look, the lizard drives his jaw into the tail ... A draft from the back of Pavich is waiting for Pavich ..

Everything is wrong here, yesterday my parents took me to swear to a quagmire, flowing down ... I did not say a word. You are more convincing me, and even more so - the Almighty.

Comrades became furious with rhinos, their golden crosses knocked on, seven troubles - one answer - we will go to the food of the maggots and I and all my peers.

The city was swallowed by the bait, by the black blanche, he sailed around the area. Someone whispered to me - well, do you even believe me? It was heard ... In the middle of the stakes of reptya, not for me to bloom ...

How low my dreams are, how low - a brilliant fat order from Krakow’s stick ... I am stringed on a ray on sunrise, but I could have gnawed my net easily ...

Come on, the quietest keepers - who is the angel among you, the hearts of the heart? It’s sweeter to be poisoned by a solvent than to kiss the rushing ambulance ...