Энди Картрайт - Птички - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Birds

White seagulls soar, as if they do not care about the city,

They shade the dirt in the yards and my anorax.

Above the roofs that divide the dull landscape in half,

They will tell the sky about something, having been in both parts.

Here, once, someone lived everywhere, someone was killed everywhere,

And do they now live in this rustle of wings?

If all the murders have happened in one hundred years, one day,

The city will drown in blood patterns, as after a burgundy rain.

And except for the long -fingering jackets of wipers in the morning, gleamed shots,

The truth has no enemies.

What left the spots, someone's enmity or someone's oath?

Careless birds soar out of the coordinate of Descartes.

Fayya, for some reason they urgently need to be in tomorrow,

It is inevitably necessary, but there are no flashing lights on the hearse.

This is the same tangle where the homeless, sticking out, stuck, porses, and after sonorous Saturday it takes out the boshki at point blank range,

And the city is waiting for who is torn by the navel,

And people breed bugs and are afraid of bombs in DEPO. Upstairs is white, there are wings, and wet roofs between the two worlds.

- "The city needs more souls, my lord!"

Seagulls - an instrument in the hands of God, so that the sky conquers us,

right on the wheelbarrow, where the Relax radio,

Right on the boshka bird shit like darts darts,

Raise your head, and the sky will give you something.

Tell the birds, where is the moral of the parable?

Who will be the Internet, having lived then 33 g?

Will the volcano cool if you write it correctly, Shi?

And will you then shit on those who survived?

Hey birds, where is the moral of the parable?

You have a chip inside.