Текст песни Фиолетовый пёс - Пёстрая лента

Top down,
Swept around the dirty bits of poetry and music
Would impose only the sharpness
Before arriving at the bottom

So nice to crawl into a poisonous fog
It is interesting to look after themselves on the heels

From the bottom up,
Soldered itself toys from old chips
In incomprehensible conversations
Away from the strange

Leaving footprints in the paper sheet,
Day after day, on the way to a big void

And dive into the green petrol
This motley Feed
Only in order to remain
Colored circles

Maybe the snow
Maybe rain, maybe just the noise of wheels
What is going to end the week -
Not as an empty question

Maybe - broken glass can - iced tea
It is not clear to what the seriously

Bottom smells comfort,
Wet asphalt
Someone will stand a year, someone will stand three
Quiet in the realm of springs
They did not get it
Just give cookies with paper inside