Текст песни Мертвий Пiвень - Поцілунок

And the taste of death on the lips,
Wine in the temples is vaguely ringing,
The faces of the dark drunken story,
And your eyes in the mirrors.
The grace of grace is,
I don't care about all this,
I don't know the root-crunches,
And the ghosts that souls suck. (2)

Their bloody lips are laughter,
Rolling golden circles,
Mixed in the scale of the dance,
Their buttocks and their breasts.
You are a star in the eye,
And that she doesn't smoke me,
Keep my mouth in memory,
I'm drinking this evening to the end. (2)

You are a star in the eye,
And that she doesn't smoke me,
Keep my mouth in memory,
I'm drinking this evening to the end.
Without mouth I am an ironic horror,
What a stubborn fist would be,
With gentle dandelion eyes,
If not the eyes in the mirrors. (2)