с николаем совсем плохо - мобн - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Nikolai, a mediocre loser, cries alone

on top of a map of a non-existent city of a non-existent country started with science fiction finished

actors for whom the roles are completed already in hospitals I am Burbage I am Stern I got lost in the reflections of chrome-plated expensive cars like two-in-one shampoo Nikolai one and Nikolai 389 The half-life of one of Nikolai is a second and now meet the freshly baked and new Nikolai - the first psychologist of the Dobovs - therefore a friend of the evil ones .

I died yesterday from fear of suicide

nothing sacred in sore eyes

my pupils react poorly to light and conjunctivitis is the recipe for my permanent stubbornness; dead free verse rustles under my feet; I live from letter to letter; it always comes from a new country

black light and the surface of the beach made of pebbles like the craters of the moon, the shadow from the black light is also a shadow

behind us flash silhouettes and faces that were visible in the X-ray images in the particles of crushed bone

everything is clear heroin marijuana crack will never do anything to me

because I'm not here

and grief and crying and groaning disappear in the night haze when the walls blur and the echo of the dead walks shaking through the rooms of the mental hospital like Jimmy Mackenzie talking to his own lobotomy about the end of history and the impossibility of new meanings arising within the existing language, we are fragile beings given over to the repressive forces of the universe then whether we smoke on an empty stomach or drink with a hangover, pretending to be the catatonic stupor of the stars, we are the spoken mucus is a lie and not one of the prophets can wake us up from the long sleep of life without adventures without love without death, the demon of death is immortal and in his immortality there is no god except him and his prophet Nicholas through the Arctic fogs storm warnings through an indomitable tornado brings us good news gradually the tornado loses its power it becomes no longer able to hold heavy objects in its arms over time it breaks apart its trunk is pulled into the cloud but the mad hurricane carries away every little thing like fish and frogs gradually losing it and the night comes when it’s all over, when so many jaws have already worked on us that we can no longer stand on our feet and our body hangs on the bones as if chewed by all the teeth of the world