Текст песни Цайзер и Kindasavan - Шаман

Smoked spice - was the Triceratops!
What are we doing here? In the sun to melt.
In your dark glasses reflected
In my breast the sign of cold chaos.

Lions opened his mouth, like a gaping ditches.
bucket in the yard mystical and hot.
You whisper: "Accio, mineral water"
But a closer look only mosquitoes are flying to us.

Midday over the world flounders,
Watercolor spill breadth of the soul.
The language of conduct on the palate in a hurry.
Sky responds to you.
and you, as a shaman, screaming.

Summer sketches are drawn
During his entire expanse of empty space
Unkempt meadows demoniac drunkenness
Even better then fall off

Pull out the drum moans
Ariadne's thread will let veins.
Just to get here,
Pull out of the grave
Empty space,
Lower terrible world.
Swim and not be afraid
Diving is not disappearing,
And I again covers