Текст песни прощай оружие - улица святых

An angle is a child hiding something in his pockets
Shines with an emerald, someone scorch from the window
Black silhouette and horns. Wires, from frost, they throw sparks
Hello, they say and for now
Quiet weekday, man shadow
Pipes highlight smoke and your smoke is already in you
Hello young morning, in front of the world on the back
Good intentions - the road to hell

In search of truth and good
Before demons, never to survive never
This thicket burns with fire
Among myself I see myself real

Who is there, and where we are
Forgotten objects are in the closet
Feasts ahead, dressed trees
Under the white bedspread, the same
Saints Street, but I remember little
About the old house,
About the smell of fresh bread, about pain
There is only a monitoring radio in the corridor of the radio
And demons are spinning, remember. Everyone remembers

Come out, breathe, smile under a kind sign
Lane remembers you and demons went to ***