Текст песни Шмели - Тату на попе

Happiness, how far is the sun?
Does the dances filled high?

To death in the flame of love
Songs are not about that, but time
We did not pass together, we are well a tribe,
Little in love with dreams.

Hyena, Dance, Hyena, sing!
Siren, Kiss in Lavilas syrup.
Skeletons wake up underground
And he comes to the tattoo itself on the pope.

Nights open the doors, are exposed.
Want, play the shadows, so easily losing.

People forget the years
Dying on weekdays past concerns.
Laugh and silently melted.

Hyena, Dance, Hyena, sing!
Siren, kiss in syrup.
Skeletons wake up underground
And he comes to the tattoo itself on the pope.