Текст песни Шмели - Завтра на выписку

Curled by the tangle Mount-Guliuschko
As if joy desire sees
Flooding chunnel sea-frost
And nobody offended grief
Feet down the leg
His salad Glazik
And again lie to us books
about blood that merges in the basin
It has come a quiet hour
Loud century
Last time
Tomorrow at the discharge of hell
Tomorrow for an extract to the paradise
And in the bathroom bathes boredom
Playing with a node lymphatic
Sometimes they braid each other
Such a union poetic
In the ward closed the window
The chief physician in the corridor was writhing
Breaking out of his face behind the muzzle
It has come a quiet hour
Loud century
Last time
Tomorrow for an extract to hell!
Tomorrow for an extract to the paradise of the thorns ...