Текст песни Тимур Бакиров - Первой истошной паникой по утрам

The first heart-rending panic in the morning -
How to make yourself,
Sweep, sweep;
Geniuses sense of somebody-favorite -
Even here God at the entrance to the temple -
Expensive: the death of a gram.

However, any dose is bitter for us
Breaking sharp;
A strange feeling born monsters:
If not stifled private line -
Occasionally we live to be forty.

Hunted breathe; Pills from the bottle
Rolling in the palm, exhausted from terror.
The best poet of the current - Sasha Vasilev,
And to thirty-six already.

However, we know about your every turn -
Who of loyalty
We carry through the door;
The general sense of disparity -
Even with God, who is lying -
Hell, the advance:

Might something close is not saved b
Shadow even stand it.

Nope deadly sense of the Titans,
Heavier gigantic paws -
Though you vulnerable and weak.

Colour King Kongova; rough fur.
What are we to Oscar,
We are - through the centuries with someone;
Before Vladimir Mayakovsky
I - just six centimeters.

King? So live alone, do not maim children.
Nowhere? So you are registered at once in eternity.

That surprised the one who sends us into the furnace:
Monuments! Laugh! And do not burn! ..