эхопрокуренныхподъездов - миссури - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

tequila and white seeds

The night was opened with rain

And your hair is burning straw

In this sweet autodaf

The new day buried in fumes

I love you fucking in my mouth

We meet nine in the top hops fuck

This day will never end

you know I don't want to fuck you

I just want to lie like a mudila

dissolving as spices bag

In the package egg noodles

Killing helpless pity

strangle from fucking thoughts

What are your neat legs

someone else is touching now

Recently border

between comedy and drama

Almost finally erased

I can’t imagine what will be

On the next rental

but absolutely sure I'm sure

that you won't forgive me for anything

If I go to the concert of the puppy group

Mother Russia grabs with callous hands by the scruff

throws to the industrial district of St. Petersburg

On a dirty bed, look at the ceiling

Here you will need beautiful

And you will think of a fucking fag for yourself

another love and start to drink your grief with cheap wine

This is characteristic of a subhuman

whose spirit is smeared with a spider on the parquet

And in old shabby training, drunk in the kitchen rhythmically shake your head

as if accidentally muffing a phrase about how dear to me

the night laughed and a cup with bulls fell under the table

The Bolid Metrostroy accelerated

And I'm a dull fucking fucker

I recall how the girl from the Moscow Art Theater twitched at the play in her role

I remember the hydrocephalus of Yegorka and how he leaned you staggering at night

Fifty on the blacksmith from Ligovsky and your gaze swam from me

Boat poacher on a motor boat even when you lived on Vladimir

And I mumbled slurred that I was very calm in the backlight of garland

Once again, you won’t believe that I love you whisper, confusing you on the left ear when you sit down next to a stupid T-shirt with a dog-chau dog

For a person to resist a healthy consciousness, it is only necessary and only a bottle of bourbon and close to the heart of the patient the warmth of human hands

At night you hear neighbors fuck, and somewhere in unknown countries the lemongrass grows and you will be killed by love and an alcohol asshole is closed by a meaningless circle clicks

A corpse floating along the Missouri river with a wallet and a woman photograph

Romanticization of different garbage turns you from a person into shit

I fell in love with the idea to hate the whole world, but it does not come out

The night laughed took the bottle: "Go to sleep fucking"