Текст песни К.И.Т. - Жертвы гламура

Fashion, what you do with their chicks
Photoshop shiny gloss coffee socialite,
Ladies all in search of the prince in the hands of puppies,
Within the walls of the solarium fumes overcooked persons.

You can hear the roar of the bones, in the Tales from the Crypt:
Released fame on the catwalk supermodel.
Tomorrow she was a guest of the Upper Light
Legs apart, elite warm bed.

Chorus:
Sin laugh once they are sick
But the villain transcend fashion:
Manit golden sheen on the network,
Catches of accident victims on the hook.

Boys instead of armor thrust into thongs,
It can be seen from the girls near the left.
Groom, cherish, shorter blow away dust particles
With their delicate bodies - glamorous fart.

They would be sent to the trenches, in the commercials a year 43 minutes,
Give to defecate, them assholes zaplaviv lead.
In general, the moral is: do not align with these,
Sanya Sailors - that's the best example for a fighter.

© A.Kitaev words, music V.Kutakov