Текст песни Оптимальный вариант - Грузчик неба

My hands breathe bread
 My jeans at random and in the blood,
 My shoulders are torn to shreds ,
 My heart looks for shelter.

I am one of those times ,
 What squeezed firmly , like a lemon .
 I'm the kind of scars,
 What are aiming to decorate any person ,
 I'm the kind of hope,
 That eternal with the kings of all garments.

Mom, I was right -
 We all grabbed wind sleeve.
 Mom, I was right -
 To move, we need solid rights.
 We are of the nails,
 What we hammered between his bones.

Hey , you let loose saliva zurna
 And shoot my moon.
 And all I have so generously ,
 I'll certainly true.

Mom, I was right -
 We all grabbed wind sleeve.
 Hey , Mom, I was right -
 To move, we need solid rights.
 We are of the nails,
 What we hammered between his bones.

My hands breathe bread
 My jeans at random and in the blood,
 My shoulders are torn to shreds ,
 My heart looks for shelter.
 I loader bread
 I loader bread
 I loader sky
 But the sky is not mine.
 Mom ...