Текст песни Me After Midnight - Эта пошлость..

Sag skillfully and quiet,
How much did a thousand times,
Indifferently famously blunt ,
Under the protection of formulaic phrases .

[ I feel the breath of vulgarity,
Indifferent shackles of reason,
Melteshenie forms of loneliness,
Thinking formulaic phrases . ]

As the fog difficulty breathing ,
Like water , it puts pressure on the chest,
And my effort in vain ,
The smell of the storm again breathe .

There is no light or darkness of the universe
Only vanity ants
Are meaningless traditions
Old antiquity, word of mouth