годфрой. - Трава у дома - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Hello my dear fictitious listener

Why do I not do all this. Believe me

There are enough problems, each new city knows what it is

Life without anyone, dust and ceiling, sadness for everything to blame, drank and good, in wine Veritas, Camon

shit on a cigarette, sangria in a package behind a glass packet somewhere in distant deserted entrances, one or with a crowd, my peace and I would throw it in the abyss of the bay for a long time without a guide I wander away

I'm swearing

Rooms of the city of the city

The roads are opened to get ready to get lost on this path, in a drunken Rzhevsky hole, a Vasileostrovsky loop of roads, in this form to the city of all windows, and the law was not written for those who are faster than the law than the law

Par Nike Kapkyushon

Each new in this city has known Peter in the morning

Movement leads the children

In the office of the whores for paper in pursuit or just at the factory, because to shit at everyone and it seems to sleep calmer when you know what day of the week but everyone is to share something in his own business

The world between the legs or in the pocket of the loot took 2 for 5 went away and I'm not talking

Every day I want to win

In the smoke of cigarettes, inhale this night so that the bridges are divorced and we will hide with the new columns. Secondly

You will hide my ghost in your hair on the lips still

And how not to bury the fire in the eyes of red paint

Do not grind the dust of the former peace with the palm of the hand and not to perish in the abyss of the bay

Cities of the city and people fly by

money paper, and you dick on the dish I will accept a solid cap and matches

give

The operating room is ready

I will resurrect the poet again and as if I would remember how the grass grows at the house.