Текст песни БестолочЪ - А если завтра...

Black smoke from the bottle reaches the liver
Smooth bit and text of the membrane in the meat tears
What else was left for me to meet in music was drowning
Such bright colors give you a tone

Cutting off the dialogs you forgot about
That in this world full of money, you are the only one.
Sitting in a cold paddy you were buried in oblivion
The street poet in life was looking for inspiration.

Robberies, robberies, that's all a great nation,
Break off life with a needle from an overdose of thirteen.
Pouring delusions of power over the ears put pressure on pity
Every loner is our weakness ...
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And if tomorrow he covers a poisonous cloud,
These gray walls make us killed.
We are looking for a solution to the problems at the bottom of a bottle of vodka,
Well, actually we are sitting in a broken boat.

And if tomorrow he covers a poisonous cloud,
These gray walls make us killed.
We are looking for a solution to the problems at the bottom of a bottle of vodka,
Well, actually ...