эхопрокуренныхсараев - Голоса в голове - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Unfortunately, you have not died yet. But this is your dream in the thick of the corpses that are rich in the basements. The rustle of the tablets became your lullaby, phenazepam in the pocket of the heart. The cold on the street brings to Suitsyyd, the stadium of hell is pressed into the eyeballs. Stone faces in the conservatory of mortal tunes, in the morgue replenishment of the old stench. In hospitals, a marathon from drugs. The TV is deceiving that everything is fine with us. The media broadcasts as if you are at a hypnosis session, a black strik dilutes a picture. Voices in their heads want death, German marches of misanthropy hum. The streets fell asleep with syringes and bottles. There is a way out of here, but you are carried to him with your feet, only death will notice your filthy life. Only death will notice. In the eyes of the veil of doom and hopelessness, in four walls you saw furniture made of wood, from the same tree you will make a coffin, it is better to hang a child, only the grave can understand you.