Текст песни Расстроенная психика - Прости меня отец небес

Forgive me father heaven
Your lost son sleeping in the cradle
Forgive me for not trust, for mysdi bad
I come to you with time, trust me
What a pity that icons cry oil
Talk to me, God, take off the mask

He walked down the street
with his one hand in his pocket
he was shaking, to whom it seemed that he was drunk
with his head down looking at his feet
and recalls the moments that were expensive
footage from the life flashed before my eyes
here he is happy and cheerful with your friends
but in the next he embraces her tenderly
really want to return to what it was before
where you Olga? crying, Marat knows
Time does not heal and it just kills
freezing, dark, home not hunting
in this concrete box has bothered to vomit
eternity until spring thinking he could barely breathe
these thoughts more strongly hurts the soul
so much pain in the chest at the end of the day ....

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