Текст песни Яна Дягилева - Ангедония

A short match - the fate of returning home
On the first snow, on red blood on the path.
Eat last year's needles bitter, bitter, bitter.
Pour golden sands on the ice knocked down by the backs

Holy empty places are to the sky from the bridge,
This is a crush on transport, choked up to the throat with longing.
The original end
The head will not fit into the glass.

And at eight in the morning, blood from a finger is an analysis for citizens.
Settled dirt, permissible percentage for work.
Raw "Belomor", Christmas tree sticks, holey felt boots,
Knives in the bootlegs and trifles ring, ring, ring.

And the blind man at the window composes a heavenly motive.
A happy blind man teaches a bird to sing to a violin.
Legalized thief
Ask - he leaves the keys as a deposit.

Anhedonia is a diagnosis of lack of joy.
Anti-war army, anti-fire fire.
Satanic third grader in an adult cap with an asterisk
Hang a puppy - a reliable soldier is growing up.

And weakly rearrange oblivion and pain?
Weak until morning to get lost in the forest and fall asleep?
Bandaged high
Waterlogged microdistrict.

Scatter fresh flowers over cold tiles.
If they killed me, then we need to invent revenge.
History loves heroes, history is waiting for you.
Around every corner with a sure remedy for all failures.

How would it be at the table by candlelight to tell about love.
How to take it and remember that you need to ask for forgiveness.
Orthodox dust
Landmarks for the light - salt pillars.

Eat last year's needles, bitter, bitter, bitter ...
Anhedonia.