Текст песни Белый Шум - Искусственный человек

And the snow is melting again godlessly
And where your new century is heading
I step on the trail carefully
Feeling like I'm an artificial person

In the terrariums of the night reared snakes
Crawling creeping into our homes
I'm painfully sure of this meanness
The walls will converge, the head will rise with a drill

And falling into the bottomless abyss of difference
The edges of the mind are so ruthlessly crumbling
I can hear the birds chirping, mocking
As an expiring miscarriage-soul breathes ...