Время придет - С 9 до 27 - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

From nine to twenty-seven years, everything is like in the fog.

What was it? Thirty-six people, Teplodar construction, ghetto, smoked on the sofa, sat on Nirvana, hairstyle, ripped shorts, no money in his pocket, for understanding Thanks to Mom.

Panca, acids, repumba, just familiar, buchari, schoolchildren fashion slave, kind, evil, smart, just passersby, glances oblique, (vile) faces, Sasha, Seryoga, sober, drunk, I am with them too.

Friday, Friday, Friday.

The years flew, friends gave away.

Vegan Street Agers or Spits.

Live, as we want, we did not shy.

Steel adult, somewhere tolerant, somewhere kinder.

We wanted to be slightly bolder and live faster.

Next: Love, Euphoria, Dreams, Grand Plans - Only you. Work, apartment, 5 after 2, months, years, the remains of hopes and empty words, pain parting, quarrel, suffering. Still able to keep an understanding.

Let's go further, life continues. Cold, Moscow, just all starts. In the list of contacts of a couple of familiar (I have never seen), someone from the new, ruble, Tajiks, construction, work. I slept, as in a reserved seat, in the Room Room, buckwar for breakfast, for dinner blame.

January, minus 20, the route behind Mkad, drunk graters, no one.

Bag, in your pocket, the last thousand, dirty, smelly, abandoned, beggar. Metro, ring, 8 circles, slept, wake up under the views of cops, fun, scary, but I was ready.

Further easier. Three X Skinheads, mutual assistance, new sneakers. Geek thanks, work and work, vegan-dating, risk factors decreased, was easier. Someone quarreled, and someone brought with someone, someone from. Moving further, the new motto, "Homesick", "Aspire" in the ears get out, someone will write that she also misses. New colors on the body, nice, great, Gym Drag Free, everything is clear.

Summer passes, I put records, new texts, swollen muzzles. There is no more ships, the rules took.

What did I come to? Who did I leave? What did I find? And what did I fix it?

To live against the rules I do not know why, the facts are bungled to the head. Give me a helmet. I'm leaving alone. To hell with Eden, the head tears from questions and minor problems. I realize my essence - it is sick, alarming, but you can change ... how difficult it is. Old wounds, like rusty cranes, knocking loneliness in the brain of the drums, inside the cockroaches, the remains of heat and forgotten plans.

Everything went to hell. I leave all sorts of gossip and Bedding, I continue

I try, I dream, I remember good, I forget, I forget, farther and farther I fly away from you, fly away. I reveal new hopes, I do not hide feelings. I dream, dream, dream.