Текст песни Авин - Птицы в пробке

Got it
Notepad and dialed on the phone ...
Lagged behind
Merging from the music like an aphonius.

Not music, but cacaphony
His muzlo "rushing out"
There is shit inside, he himself is dressed in a feather like a pierrot.

And here is one ... platform ...
An empty carriage and this is that last dream.
He went on a spree like dust in everyday life,
Hands are sweating again
Rolling In The Deep
And as if instead of growth he became like a mat.

Something interferes with the soul in the metropolis:
Perfume trails on the floor
There is tuberculosis in the basements.
On the streets ospy carcasses and smiles from ear to ear,
But there will be no fewer tears from that.

Bridge:
We're like birds in traffic
and we need to be silent
We're like birds in a traffic jam
time to sleep on the fly
We're like birds in traffic
time not to notice
That we are like birds in a traffic jam.

etc:
We're like birds in a traffic jam
and we need to be silent
We're like birds in traffic
time to sleep on the fly
We're like birds in a traffic jam
time not to notice
That we are like birds in a traffic jam.

And he thought
"-who am I addressing all this?
For whom to a laborer on machines in bits
and I draw canvases as gifts?
LAMPS screwing in sue
YET the dark path was bright
And the traveler was able to rest here ... "

His fan only gets on the tram
It gives way, taking itself just barely.
Delicious food means a lot to him, yeah
He loves films about himself
(where will he see you).

Headphones in your ears, start!
He is a musical bastard.
Living motives of lace ...
How many films I chewed in childhood
His cassette workbench.
Now he's a rhyme master
Ras so, now he sees the world like this:

etc:
We're like birds in a traffic jam
and we need to be silent
We're like birds in traffic
time to sleep on the fly
We're like birds in a traffic jam
time not to notice
That we are like birds in a traffic jam.

Who said that you can't lay rhymes like that?
But I felt my pulse like a thin thread
I realized that I myself am a loyal fan,
And this guy in a traffic jam was crucified.

(There are five of us)
This is rap, (this is ras) this is dancing and graffiti
It is a scratching wick and knowledge fire.
I only saw these five points
And that means that only in them I found the type of accordion.

Only this made me stand out among the birds
Those in a huge traffic jam, faces crushed into the glass.
Dumb canons, rules, signs ...
Fuck all of them PICKED!

etc:
We're like birds in traffic
and we need to be silent
We're like birds in traffic
time to sleep on the fly
We're like birds in traffic
time not to notice
That we are like birds in a traffic jam.

How to know what else will be there?
With my fish allergy
Life kills with bream.
It's all personal, I took out three albums
And from how the cutout on the bitch in the dress.

I got out of Serov ... it's hard here bro,
If I were in a wheelbarrow, I would rush to you.
And this song is a provincial anthem
For those who did not become the king naked before the test.

And let my city bloom
Not only with cheap fireworks!
If you have no soul
You will be poured there!
We, leaving the nest,
Let's head for adventure
That would only broadcast live!

pr2:
We're like birds in traffic
we do not need to be silent
We're like birds in traffic
shooter slowing down
We're like birds in a traffic jam
cut the dream in a rage
We are like birds in a traffic jam.

having slept off we take off.
We're like birds in a traffic jam
we do not need to be silent
We're like birds in a traffic jam
shooter slowing down
We're like birds in traffic
cut the dream in a rage
We are like birds in a traffic jam.
having slept off we take off.