dobbro - tishomertv - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I saw all of you hyenas waiting for the death of lions of their own bodies

Sleepy mouths, in convulsive anticipation of arrivals, listen to the mechanical work of internal organs as if they were rustling from an empty room.

every time you lie to yourself that

it’s not that simple, not a goosebump, but a brave explorer of dopamine mountains and endorphin rivers, or the last poet of a lazy world, in hopelessness, trying to find an unknown thing between the morphing fibers, surgeons of conscience tearing out bullets from soft tissues of everyday fiction about something bothering you, a fairy tale about a white bull no one bothers you and has not interfered with you, you just want nothing yourself, your fingers won’t dance out the required code, a rebus of letters, it’s all the laughter of missing seconds, at first they barely audibly scratch the silence with the squeak of a mosquito, but gradually the sound grows, fills the room of your head, tears the pieces of your ears into pieces, and then everything becomes louder and now you are no longer there, there is nothing there is only sound and then it reaches its limit and the sound becomes silence

a constant state in general all this is constantly the wise one remains in an unchanged

I'm invariably sick I went into the mountains of failed attempts at self-control I travel along rivers of unfilled reports I set up a tent for a rented apartment by the river I wait for the civil service bear with longing in my eyes there is no melancholy no sadness no fatigue you just open your eyes and do things detachedly the inner boy who cried wolf in the catering kennels died and I’m walking straight through reality, I’m wearing a beautiful white coat, I’m lying to everyone that I look at the world from the other side, that I wrapped myself in the clothes of madness for 6 hours

visited the wrong side of consciousness

I was smoking a hookah with a caterpillar, I’m not there at all, I’m just a photograph where everything is still so sweet, where I’m in my father’s arms, slightly frowning, and my mother is younger than me now, she tells me

just two tablets open the burners small nuclear boats the inner bald man will say in your voice they drowned and laugh

three covers and walk around the inner perimeter of the cell in the pre-trial detention center

four floors at night knock on the artillery of the batteries

I am Achilles heel I am an anti-tank hedgehog

needles syringes I am a dancer on the barbed wire of meanings

I am the voice of the god of a broken gramophone record

Torn reality with pliers lazily tries to drain into the bottom of the glass-well

your eyes

empty rooms of empty people, romanticization of shooting yourself in the limbs, pathetic attempts to somehow make it not boring

feeding illusions of oneself in the literal sense half-dead from overdoses not very smart people are trying to open their eyes but look for corpses in the news a resident of a city with a million people opened the gas in the apartment and ran away from the party