Текст песни КонтрКультура - ячейка

big and black stain will stretch
Above the waves of memories All my flights are paired
With an unbearable boredom over the city like a step
Filling all the remaining and tomorrow
not so promising
and less than all I would like to bind him with you
Greater about a joint family and life
After all, you are beautiful as Babylon on the Breigheliy Picture
And I ugly like "Gorod
My family is ethanol and postmodernism
their prodigal son back rushed into an embrace
Trying to knock out from the temporality line
How the needles from the hands of the old woman
not allowing her to tie the narration of my actions
they will remain so predictable
And in a drunk joke will open ememas and structures

as if they were noticed before
driven ideas from public and memes
day after day under the pretext of the fictional purpose
Lack of way is one of its manifestations.
And I would have drowned in you for good and salvation
but rejugged the palm like the burn from the touch
to the spawned gland of being
No pink welding glasses and knowing about stones
underwater, that's just knowledge - big grief
Want to hide? Love is like not suitable
Is the pretext, what are there any more jokes?
everything is temporarily, but not only under the heel you
Illusion of freedom, slogans of polyamorov
For me, Jean-Paul with Simona has always been a template
But not as an example of the absence of an animal
And as a bowel originally, who did not feel at all

And I will not get more on this fishing rod
better and then let the liver suffer from the pancreas
Brain cells die and memory erased
Everyone as if significant moments hanging coat of arms
"Romanticization", "Wines Syndrome" and then on the rolled
I would rewound the events and would do everything exactly
I, as before, lacking only a scenario invented by you
and empty suffering it is not at all how they write fucking prose
Minding snot on the pages of their foliants
This is just a sublimation, search for excuses
For the weak spirit, the path lies only on this line
in fluid, unpredictable, absurd world
After all, by and large, everyone is indifferent here.
that happiness is illusively and mutually beneficial
We are all objects whose lust and hypocrisy
And the true joy was felt only in childhood
fallen victim of parental prohibitions
Now she is only a glimpse in the erection series
I collect in parts of the courage
I suffer offense and soul in myself gusts of feelings
After all, while I live in the system does not allow me to conscience
Create another cell in this fascist society