Текст песни Cros - Под рубахой

I don't need strange meetings
notes
turned out to be a capture group
And in the heart
Direct blow to defeat
In the eyes of the distortion
forgot about advice and opinions

a

those views of the eyes
Press on the chest
Like a tormase pedal
The sounds of the pulse are gone
how to weigh the reality from sleep
I'm kind of against and for

Remember the happiness of the tear rolled
conversation phone and you after I dreamed
Disgracing the consciousness ended with sweetness
By the way
You crashed in your thoughts for a long time

Shee

Let me be like a sinner in a fire
bitch get off before paradise
These sounds in my head from each of you
As if I am killed and not races

And everything seems to be an explosion
From my chest to the tray
you hold stronger baby
This is my bouquet of hundreds of roses

I gave you from the soul
I gave you fire you don't be carcass
Though your fragile world do not breathe
All those words came together on lies

But we run and do not look where
boom
This is not a movie and not games about thoughts

Want to hold my heart
But you will find yourself pepper
and fuck to the bottom

Many grief
a
There are such sea
Let me alone
May three be with you
May we die all over
Well, I'm talking about sad
Everything there is under a shirt