Четное Число - Этот мир создан для меня - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Outbreaks of a thunderstorm and echo of thunder, your screams merge with the noise of the elements, my knife is around more than ever, your death is more beautiful than a thousand lives.

I love the fading brilliance of your eyes, I always return to this point, the music of your torn voice from due to the tact begins the soundtrack of this night, your blood is the only paint for my new picture.

On a white canvas, I will write your portrait again, a black bag will be on your head again, there will be baked blood on your chest, the only dream will be that I let you go faster into the last sunset.

I will call you my muse, you are always in different flesh, with a different mask of feelings on your face, and as always I will try to find your stinking soul in the depths of the fragrant body with a knife.

Your death is equally beautiful, like the death of all muses before you, my knife finds only guts in you, shit and my favorite feeling of endless pain. Your life is a quick jump from the obstetrician table on the tip of the knife that gives you the search for meaning.

I love this proximity

There is only a wooden handle of my old friend between us

Between your death and the new expectation of a meeting with me only the last rainy sunset

Your death is my world. Your world is a constant expectation of a meeting with me. I have been next to you from birth.

At the tip of the bullets, on the tip of it, on the back of the car that painted the asphalt with your brains.

I am your idol, I am the one from whom you are trying to hide between the pages of novels about love. I am your creator. I am your main fear. Your life is the creator’s mistake, I will help you meet him again and again.

Your death is my world. Your soul burned down with the first dawn, giving my knife a passionate kiss. Your endless expectation of death is a priceless gift of the Creator.

This world is created only for me