Текст песни подкова ильича - четыредвадцать

my peers think to break out into the people,
while I dream of fucking them,
weigh the air over the stock,
otherwise there will be nothing left for tomorrow.
the last rebel will die somewhere
choking on a gun-butter sandwich.
what's next, it's not clear to me anymore
suffocate, but wear this collar gently.
you are so beautifully mentally killed
but this is just a series of algorithms,
in the acid sea of ​​a lethal trip
we only see guitar riffs.
and drinking the rest of Saturday,
no one thinks to save a man overboard,
do not look into this black water,
after people, the living sea here will become a swamp.
we're just hanging out in the tournament grid
hoping to meet what the church announced.
if you sing - just die on stage
for drawn people who appreciate you.
you are your own headless captive,
and this house is just a grave mound,
we grew up killing time
but this time was killing us.

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