Текст песни Мистика - Глава 5. Ремесло палача

Crunch of human she
Sometimes excites.
Like cats mice
Power is chasing you.
The judge is also cool,
He plays with you.
Itch does not disappear
What prevents again.
No, sometimes on the soul of other
Mood.

Chorus:
I would become a writer
And inventor,
Or teacher
With an oath of a doctor.
But I am so tied that thoughts consciously
It bends only the executioner.

Hearing you
For sure, tasteful.
Show for mass.
Or garbage?
Powerful lever
Life deprives.
I'm not a maniac,
After all, it happens worse.
Death will catch and so on the day any
Another.

Chorus:
I would become a writer
And inventor,
Or teacher
With an oath of a doctor.
But I am so tied that thoughts consciously
It bends only the executioner.

No regret,
No conviction
Thoughts on blind fire seem eternity.
No weakening
No remorse.
He began, finished and wiped the blood on the floor.
Blood.

Chorus:
I would become a writer
And inventor,
Or teacher
With an oath of a doctor.
But I am so tied that thoughts consciously
It bends only the executioner.
I would become a writer
And inventor,
Or teacher
With an oath of a doctor.
But I am so tied that thoughts consciously
It bends only the executioner.