Синекдоха Монток - Никитский бульвар - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

On the anger of the day, my friend, on the anger of the day, I have no mill and old man. Here are the streets of Venochka, Moscow - the river. On the anger of the day, my friend, on the anger of the day, we hang in a cell for a human man, we are a finger like a dumb moon: she wants to leave here. If you do not remember, you can’t make a damn thing to me, seeing a dream. I am a freak and scum, in your words, but I want to get up and go on the heads. This time, my friend, this time there is nothing to hold us. Kill me for this, and for not understanding. And you can't. If you do not remember, you can’t make a damn thing to me, seeing the sun. Bread, childhood and law are stale, I do not want to be a ghost, I want to be a spirit