GanGuBaS - 7 Пятниц - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

There is a fine line of concepts, we need to understand them. There are a lot of problems, I am drowning in their arms. Make the sound louder, buddy, stick it in the car that comes from Tolyatti. And we’re rolling here too, who doesn’t give a fuck? Rather than bending under the system, it’s better to just die. Everything is unchanged, here we cure our thirst with foam. From the heart, brothers, to one and all. Respect for letting me into your hallway. I want it to be Friday, five Saturdays and Sunday. Nerves have gone to hell, to the limit. After all, here, in fact, there are seven Fridays a week. I'm tired of everything, I'm fucked - to put it mildly. Everyone is getting into my soul - it's fucking honey smeared there!? Beautiful words - when the lips shine with lies This is not a city of roads, but a city of roads. Burnt whiskey, a pen, a blank piece of paper. I’ll pounce again and write a couple of lines. Where to get themes from, there are plenty of varieties in the city of trunks, gingerbread and samovars. And this rhythm of the city kills from a young age Cigarette smoke and drinks with malt. I don’t remember myself in a cafe with tea. As a result, we spend more money than we receive! We console ourselves that we only live once. Morning remembering, evening drunken contrast. And then you understand, you need to pull the stop valve, stop drinking and smoking, start running in the morning. Here the head is filled with some kind of rubbish We are constantly building, Napoleonic plans... But it’s not scary to put everything off until Monday When there are seven Fridays in a week on the calendar...!