Текст песни Decorator - Тёткой

Soon we will be over forty,
My legs are hurting more and more and we can't get far.
Slide from cradle to morgue
It slips more and more and we are in the middle of the road.

Soon I will become a mother aunt
With a whip in our wasted hands
You will get old, pot-bellied and boring
And the most obedient of God's beeches

Soon I will become a mother aunt
With a whip in our wasted hands
You will run with songs the same way
Very famous in narrow circles