kerword.nonKris - Мы дети 21 века - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

We are children of the 21st century. We take drugs, sit on diets and love. We are victims of the Internet and tobacco products living today and do not know what will happen to us tomorrow. We do not have a future. You defeated him. We are children of the 21st century. If in the 20th century everyone was afraid of serial killers, then in the XXI everyone is afraid of us. We have our world, where there is no money, there is no intercom, and where everyone is used to knocking the iron door from the foot. Insomnia. We are sitting on the Internet. \ "Internet addiction \" is a romantic word that lacks a mouthpiece and a long cigarette. Stupid. What are we coming up with? Vile creatures, we envy Lisa from grade 11 because she has a personal driver, a private house and beautiful clothes. And we ... And we are just children of the dungeons: we go to the subway, and back, there, and then back again. And so in a circle. And on a subconscious level we are all stars. Younger generation. For us to run for happiness is low. For us, life is like a showcase. And there is no truth. Ling. I’m trying to be a god, to change someone else's weather, to know the meaning of time, the influence of fashion. And seconds and years fly past us. I am in the XXI century. Despite the sun, I do not close the eyelids. And we do not believe in love. Our dreams are dirty, like rivers. We are fashionable and thin, we are wearing glasses, we smoke, we suffer about our feelings at night. We love the sky, roofs, we read someone, listen, sometimes silent. We dream of passion, have sex, quarrel with parents in rage. After all, hating everyone is so nice. But we are all zinniks in love with the icing. And salt water beckons us so much. Then we write secret poems. And again, all are so pathos, and it smells delicious from us. We love smart phrases, smart books. Brokes, bastards. And the phrase \ "one for all, and all for one! \" He will not work with us. Every man for himself. Snow morons came up with this. And we love industrial and indie. But they themselves are not averse to listening to chem and Britney. But we must somehow show off and say such beautiful, extraordinary words: \ "I am listening to industrial \". We are people of the 21st century. Girls in love with anorexic tall boys with thin legs. These are boys in love with boys. And girls similar to boys. And boys similar to girls. And when an old grandmother mixed us up on the street with the opposite sex, we are so proudly telling friends about this. We are in love with our reflection and the boy in the photo from the Internet. And in his soul everyone dreams of plastic, but we will never decide on this step. We are so dependent on independence, but we are absolutely all selfish creatures. We love London, because it sounds beautiful, rainy, and so melodious. We are propaganda of non -standard, individuality. Such strong fakes, weak in the soul, in need of someone, closed in themselves. After all, if we open, no one will understand us. Nobody sorry for us, we are hated and do not set us as an example of a younger sister. We are so strange and beautiful, thoughtful, smart, stupid, and sometimes naive. But to a greater extent we are dreamers. We fly in a dream and in life. We are children of the 21st century. We are pain, fragility and lying confidence. We are adolescents of the 21st century. We know how to be alone. We know that none of us have a person. Our companies do not care about our society. We smoke, love, drink and cry. We know how to kill all evening. We lose the score of cigarette packs. We tried everything. There is nothing to surprise us. We tear off the voice, screaming in four walls. We are silent about the problems of others. And the liquid introduced into the veins shoots his current. And that girl has a habit. And it doesn’t matter that she is only 14 years old. Inside her burns, everything is like a match. I left a mark on my body with a knife. And that guy ... He chokes at night in the breaths of cigarette smoke. His heart is torn to shreds. And this topic is not at all loved. See that pair, holding hands? They both know their suicide plan. They don't want to endure all the torment