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

I'm tired of the shame of being one big incompetent stand-up in a room with low ceilings. Smoke streams from industrial cigarette pipes in this gas pressure chamber. Hands down, I agree to spend the next day in airplane mode. The gin will pour out of one bottle and the gin will fly out of another, but they will leave in the same car. So tell me, will the ringing of coins go away and is there any point in thinking about it at all? We are slowly fading away and will quickly die, but until our locomotive is stopped by more than one torpedo. The angelic face of this white lady, the blue lagoon, plays with the lights of Manhattan, but Mexican Sunrise, like an unexpected guest, stabs Mary Picoford with a screwdriver and a rusty nail. Her blood is sweet like Rouge de Brussels, a B-52 bombardier will shoot down your golden dream of sex on the beach and her tears are bitter like Indian pale ale. Brahma in a tuxedo as black as stout, or this Cuba will never become a libre again.

Siberian crown made of Lapland gold, green fairy is a brain tumor. The Russian standard has been raised to the absolute, because the fat man from parliament is your flagship, but the northern lights - not fireworks - will illuminate us with sapphires, the crane will screech. And mom, do you hear mom, we are all seriously ill and we desperately need an epidemic, a fever, or at least a few terrorist attacks. This is avant-garde theater, its essence is that nothing changes. I would cling to every inch of this life, but my dream has too few enemies. Your eyes, the color of grief, flicker dimly like at a traffic light. In the backlight of the iPhones, I remember that the attic is now a fucking loft. The stars sparkle with their beauty, the football field grows moldy. And I would swallow the air of these technoprairies, but my dream has too few enemies. I bet every one of the seven billion creatures with handicaps, but seven is at best. And the night fucks me again in its black trousers, this night makes me fart and I take her to the bathroom. Doug Stanhope in a Libertarian T-shirt with a glass falls asleep in an American pub, the city wakes up and all the civilians die.