Prince Xvtt - Кентервиль - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Hatt:

Corridors, on the walls of the bomb boards of honor.

Who, with whom, about whispering Hooor,

Behind the back bag is a nao, he is a scientist

And in the throat, and I hear how he, in the mind, tried, Trete is doomed.

In the tower with a big star, which year monitor, there

Gorbachev stain.

It is a shit nearby for a long time and a non-hard glass - karma or trap, Dance Makabr or Kan-Kan is under the accompaniment of the pioneer speech-wok.

The sword stuck in the stone, the ball, bent into the rope of the gate and the shoulder shot down with the coordinates of the right, does it as advises from the left damn.

In the old fufayka, 9.8 per second we cubere down,

Bouncer from the air sparks, resulting samovar and breaking the balalaika, from the mouth only swearing and whistle, delete and risk.

We sit on the grave of Yesenin,

And we fly in an enchanting deflection scattered, clapping Zenkami, listening to the stereo nonsense of frkinasoid kings.

We are with corn from robble on the toolonic foreheads from beating by a friend and with milk on the lips we are waiting for ingratiating, fucking what?

Funny - new receipts with culk.

Do not you see? Here is cool.

And instead of the Nyan Cat ballistic missiles, it flies from Baltic to Cape Dezhnev.