Текст песни красные.огни.крыш. - avgust

I was pushing the ceiling
With nineteen white kernels that are ready to break at any moment.
I hate the roar of thousands of feet stamping ,
Like the body , tied with hundreds of tapes.
A box with the wind ? Noise : thirty-two to forty- one
Handing over the cold.
Swinging back and forth : " . . You're the one You're the one You're the one . "
It flows like an echo from the eighth floor to the lobby .