Текст песни последняя сигарета - депрессия

Skurov two cigarettes before he could even move away from a dream day
Perhaps this is when I will kill, but now the mud makes me a little bit alive
The voice did not appear when I woke up - it is not in vain
Like today my face, when I look at my reflection in the mirror
At the moment of thinking in my head still and empty fucking mind infirm man only just make me sick
Why can not I just go to sleep and get up the next day
Why would I try to stay straight and not fall when my legs tremble when I stand in front of the road on a cold night
Please let all will be well at least one day - I say to myself, each time coming back home after a long walk at three o'clock
Where equivalence between good and bad events?
These phenomena do not, there is only a coincidence and what you want to expect
But the expectations, plans and dreams - always broken, as if you did not want
As the glass, which you could not hold when drinking wine while standing at a window
I try to understand everything - but at least something, someone wants to understand whether I?
I buy a cheap bottle of beer every Thursday and I write horrible thoughts on paper, which are then mnu and throw
And always only one word in my head no, how much I did not try to turn it into a yes
Always there will only be there?

No