Текст песни бiта - биполярка

My pure consciousness plays a bipolarm for money,
while I eat a tablet, burning all those days
And Alko raised, like the wind, according to my veins
Melancholy beat the capillaries of the poor
Give, burn, burn your youth
While you can, you can, we can no reason
I'm on a wire with brothers, even outside the city
I'm warming the warmth of strong friendship from this raw dead cold

I'm tired of the life that left for schools
I'm tired of that jealousy that left for former crowds
I'm tired of the knocked curves, which are fighting needles
I'm tired of those creatures that spits in the first face with empty verbs

life of my kaleidoscope, take the way to the east
I forgot about the gods that the fires do not miss the fires for a long time
I do not cry proudly for the feat of the fathers,
After all, this is not mine at all, did not know the native face

Love and threw, honest every way
I have not seen in one and those many your sign
let him come out with her, lost his lighthouse
But I realized what love, nice and the last asshole (yes, that's me)

Rollin '