Текст песни Фронт - Мертвые Души

Nails cloud plastic blades
That here and there as the knife is not sober
Scratching the strings of hair, and sounds
Ston node dirty hands.

Acoustics sound brain vystroet
Brown blood flowing in the underground.
Notes on a bunch of scratch ushy
Listen trash, dead souls!

Morgue - a resting place of death
Tile smelling death
You're new to this diabolical house
Thirteen days in a fatal coma.

Walls illusions become higher
Tattooed on the skull - a house without a roof
In a sea of ​​blood piece of land
Listen thrash dead souls!

Your veins do not know mercy
Red life maimed - bastards!
You - a louse! You - a flea!
In New York thrashers laugh ha ha ha ha.

Khair on the face, Russian vsezhe
Can play this music too
Their Communists clubs jammed
But listen to thrash dead souls!