Текст песни Predict - Замоченные мины

Bitten somewhere,
A bit of warmth and a new newspaper.
Watching us from above,
Sail boats against the wind.

cold fingers
To the hot mouth,
We went on the north,
looking at the moon.

Sand houses closed all the doors,
There was an empty bed for gnomes.

I do not know, and losing these days are melting.
Machines, showcases, we soaked in the mines.
Cling, biting and give away the distance,
For us go, crawling on his heels.

These ears on top
Pricked into the distance,
They put a gun.

Red and blue veil
Close your eyes
And your tears flowed.

Seconds Lights,
Minutes of silence,
Watches and expectations

Days of cold tea,
Let e-Maila,
Crossroads of destiny.