эхопрокуренныхсараев - Героиновая грусть - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Life, as a rally, the TOS fell, but he is also a praeoban somewhere, not like a life was made. The life of Ggore, I will mourn the dead sea, you eat bread and drink a handful of pills so that it does not twist in pain. With salt in the throat, the eyes were zero and you already sold life for the shirka, and Goriilka, did not listen to what the dialect was saying. And tears with blood are not with the taste of chocolate Milka. And then it breaks wildly, you are ready to surrender to the dose, although you yourself know what is better in Vienna than in the point. Sell Grandfather Ok Denaa, and buy a tool that kills seven yu safely for cockroaches. Endless symphony of fingers, from glasses. You forgot God, you are ready to beat the children and kill animals, in order to refuel a little into Vienna. Light at the end of Tunael, beckoning people like you, without a certain place of life. Life. The disease from which only the Doctor Death can cure. Your friends are preparing a fiery mixture so that you no longer smile in the Dej. Tears flow into someone else's non -existent pity. You did not dig on the coffin, but spent a little little, not even having time to become sad for old age. He believed in Satan, chopped off the Yai Council. Preservation, gloomy floors. Where this life led. Automatic passers -by, like robots to work, read books, grabbed towers, it is not worth jumping above the roof, better from the roof. Life. Tell me what the price is for her. Somewhere, a portrait of Bori Yeltsin looms. Your neck, caress the hinges. Forget your life and moths for death.