Текст песни Террариум Пятиугольный грех - 10. Креол

Keeping a wretched silence
Over the gloom of rotting waters
I burned fires in the sad night
And crawling forward senselessly.
He was met proudly
Arbitrators of abandoned roads.
Pears were transformed into plums
And the wind howled its monologue.

About the end of sphirs
And the wires caught fire
And chilled water
Throws the cloak at the elbow of the world.

The hermit scolds his dream,
Living in the near distant
He puts on an old vest
And sleeps with a comb in his hand
And in no hurry to return
And pleases the old house
Where, killed many times,
The agronomist sings the canzone.

About the wind, about the seas of clay,
About a festive leaky table,
Where is the rock-hard creole
Mysteriously gnaws olives.