Текст песни Смоки-Мо - Смех из палаты для тихих психов

Where children piled photo mothers
Herman tried to change the chronicle of days (and how?).
Making up the speakers lyrical confusion,
Patrick scolded for half-eaten chicken.
Last dream of the ring,
I dreamed about meeting with Erik Morales and Don King,
He dreamed about the championship belt.
Parallel somewhere explosions thundered - German penetrated in the News:
Arafat, Sharon, fear, war, phobia,
The tyrant Fidel, or Montana, the mafia, in the preponderance
Porgy and Bess, jazz, old man Davis
A little bit of Russia, and now and the summer turned into autumn.
Poems about Cuba prose.
Even in the hospital, Patrick realized that the hair falls out.
Who put the roses in my vase?
Who had sent me these letters, stamps, portraits of Castro?
I hate red flowers with envelopes!
And suddenly, everything stopped, someone woke up.
Do not wake, do not wake, do not judge, it is still better not to say anything!

Chorus:
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes ....

Verse 2:
Drenched in July, the sun disappeared from the fluff.
Chamber doomed opened the window for the spirits.
Someone whimpered once, shouting: & quot; Patrick died! & Quot;
If you can also take away the grin, wait.
Pascal died yesterday morning left a bullet in the window.
Take my word, Doctor, let go.
Do not listen to my family, I'm not sick.
Understand! Think of yourself at 23! Fly!
& quot; I shall open veins! & quot;, - cried Anton,
He begged on his knees to release the father told to bite my tongue!
The walls were silent, killed Pascal ousted Patrick
From the world of the living from the world of hungry from the world of fast,
Bodyazhennyh, but tenacious, those that do not sell prescription.
German whispered something Anton asked to mow. Like this?
& quot; I would podohnesh! & quot; and & quot; What is HIV? & quot;
People kept phrases like sentences, singing serenades
But the nurse did not move his lips.
The doctor smoked, my father did not dare to lament:
& quot; Your son has run away or fly away, eating ... & quot;

Chorus:
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes ....

Verse 3:
One half-dead in the city of dreams primates
The heady scent of roses, perfume.
Fantastic! This fucking world I forgot,
Ordered July to gain strength, wet, toast.
Plucking chutzpah, questions flew in the sky:
& quot; And how much it's worth a dose of joy, as well ?!
Perhaps it is difficult to be God, is difficult to manage patients audience.
The doctors in the wards we have seen. & Quot;
Bitch-woven from hunger odors, broken,
Those who threw Anton, flying from the windows.
Pacific glanders brothers left the Chamber
And I could do nothing except as
Ubitsya current time as a spirit.
Once overcome fear and take off into the world of the living.

Chorus:
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Laughter from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes through the corridors of the clinic
Stone from the room for quiet psychos
It carries echoes ....