Текст песни Moron aka Псих - Для псов и психов

Children are not happy sweets
Virgin warmed up and excited Privat
After a generous uncle
Bought innocent good
Works of three law
Desire, hope, and those who pay and rushing
Six more are not enough hours to implement the plans
That due to the loss of personality will not mainly
And money under the kumara, heal wounds
And the past will not come back
Soul is not zashёsh
Flushing ink, calming lie.
Poor wall is not an obstacle if it is dark
If the dead in the living body,
If not disgusting shit crowd
And yet one if native in general use
Even the subway late, seriously and all funny.
Furrows on the brain. Compress the last cluster of forces.
That would not do - you're in Russia. Stagnate.
I kind of reached the nirvana and distances.
And Dahl wrote that felt cockroaches in my room.
Sounds from the body, as has been done
So I do not sing that would
White with black - gray.
Love has become a bitch.
Eyes sad smear densely music strings minors
For fools behind curtains
Where a stop to stack left the table.
For idle cakes for standard calls
For those who have been expensive. Where output my god ...
I write about what I think
Not kipish
So, without meaning
On paper, I pour soul. Conversations with leaf.
Tantrums sadist. Fighting shots.
And at night the soul of a recently truths.
What previously warmed happiness, joy called
Smoothes trouble, hello! Here it is a reality!
Where are all the same and the summer is not warmer than minus, in the winter, with the wind
Up and down - you get it ...
Couplets alone in the city, overwhelmed without hope
Smudge the asphalt hurrying protectors.
And only the smoke from cigarettes carries a sense of it, even harmful,
But we are all mortal ...