Текст песни Александр Веселов - Сюрреализм

We grab the scissors I go to the roof:
The paranormal brain area moves.
Cut the moon to pieces,
Making up of them new songs lines.

Highly stared satellite consciousness
In this space he is a free traveler.
Today, the sky is my confessional,
I will stall from the stars all my desires.

Furrowing deposits of galaxy, I am comet
I collect in pockets like candy.
So then when the action stops,
Put them under their tongue and return.

We grab the scissors I go to the roof:
The paranormal brain area moves.
Cut the moon to pieces,
And I keep them in the reliable shell.