Текст песни Тихуана Нуар - Настроение

Cold War
No forks and knives.
Today wounded,
Tomorrow - by.
Does not go out late
Light of the upper floors,
And in the afternoon they live invisible.
Concrete houses
Smiles to ears
Who came out of the window
Or hanged.
Hospitable
But drives us disorder -
Nevertheless, she does not turn.

The mood is fucking.

Cold wave
Our city will drown.
Do not be afraid,
This is all dreaming.
Do not lie on me -
Such your sabotage.
I am a wolf, and you are my fox, you
Sullen and black -
Shock wave
From hundreds of hirosim
Island of bad luck.
We walked out of the forces.
And who asked you
Press playback?

The mood is fucking.

Hand smells to tobacco,
Blue smoke under the ceiling.
Hand smells to tobacco,
Strong coffee with brandy.
Lick brand languages,
What is not in the cashier - then in the bayonets.
Labels, labels,
Stencils, wigs ...
Brands lick the languages
No one to send hands.
Labels, labels,
Stencils, wigs ...

The mood is fucking.