TRIBAL FOBIA - Нет Времени - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Windows of gray houses never open

It's so scary to meet a new day

Will take the clouds of dead birds in their hands

Having imprisoned them in their cradle

The bad weather will continue, we are waiting for unheard of shocks, unheard of murders, unheard of despair. The slightest improvement in the weather is not expected anywhere, the time cancer continues to corrode us, all our heroes either have already finished themselves or do it now, therefore, a real hero is not a time at all, this is a lack of time. We need to keep up, equal to the step, on the way to the death prison. The escape is impossible. The weather will not change. (c) Henry Miller

The world is without time

The world is without a name

Never to close the windows of gray houses

It's so scary to meet a new day

Will take the clouds of dead birds in their hands

Having imprisoned them in their cradle

Svito time in the ring and captivity of the hourglass

Absorbs the remnants of a dream

But the destroyed world will not open the door for me

The output closing the darkness