Текст песни Сломанный воздух - Шесть минут шестого дня шестого года

Six minutes of the sixth day of the sixth year,
Occasted on the plane of the wrist.
Whose soul will find freedom today?
Whose forever will wander on earth?

Six minutes of the sixth day of the sixth year
Like barcode on packing from tablets.
Whose soul will blind from the night arch?
Whose will poison from the morning light?

So it was always that it happens here,
Here 2000 years comes fucked.
Here you are used to drinking human juice,
For meat snack bloody piece.

Arithmetic numbers my calendar
Predicts the eternal winter, February.
We will warm the hellish fire,
Happy holiday you, with the second Christmas.

Six minutes of the sixth day of the sixth year,
In the edge of the needle of the charged syringe.
Whose soul is somewhat familiar with the mother?
Whose laid in the well fail?

Six minutes of the sixth day of the sixth year,
Everything is not just so, everything is connected forever.
The combination of three digits, lock without code.

Two stars fly, fly, fly towards

Someone undressed and lay on the sand,
And someone launched a bullet in the temple.
Last flash and not return
The second bullet lies in the chest.

Rotten stream from the drill hole
Rushed hearts last gust
Bloody snot and joyful splashes,
Here is such a cheerful striptease.

The view rests on the shadow,
I hate everybody!
Looks like this is a nervous breakdown
Between metal walls
Snow falls from the sky,

Immaculate feeling is not mutual
Love is painless hopelessly,
Don't want to love to be happy
Do not want to love - it is impossible!

And I sit between the walls of the hinge,
I think how many other veins are unreleased,

Breaking the world of decorations drawn,
No longer feeling bursts of painful.
Springs painful.
Drawn scenery.
No longer feeling bursts of painful.
I break the world of decorations drawn.