Текст песни aegabootleg - на бумаге

id1589111

on paper

Run, whom millions. Talents zero complexes tons.
When evils drown, later to talk about the stash, we destroy.
About Python, we swallow. Bro, bro, brakes, not everyone in the ointment.
We all che looking at the ashes are often indistinguishable from the false truths and there is a place of self-interest.
There will be our globe, dipping your head in the network bondage.
Coley's liking, welcome to new GuLag.
As the gene pool ancestors destroyed, so we are the fruit of biodegradable waste.
And old and young in the same conditions, the only difference in class.
One can endlessly rubbing of the subject, but litter, pressed for time.
I open my notebook, and a couple of thoughts here.
I've come to believe that we are not the last generation, sitting on a monster of their laziness.
Further more, from Sydney to Poland, and from Kamchatka to Berlin
unable to settle the action of morons.
The farce about a turbulent life in the sink soaked through. Vegetate can also be heated.
Do not forget to throw the trash in the morning. Sunrise or sunset, solve someone behind the scenes.
But we know that we do not agree, the rest of & quot; paper & quot ;, the rest of a bastard ...