Текст песни Etallon - Икона

Falsely sewed friend brut
He lived problems as a corpse - suddenly.
And I am a little flour with a rubbish around
Two-mounted fate bike and whip.
Mercury Give me a bu buntar! Lit al woo vuil
Robs me well, well, the edge of all stinging Goods Bai

Flash, hello promo hit.
Labor distributors, as if alder hill.
In the light of any poems, mine will give bad
It is clear that they do not want to hear wrinkle as a rotten archive.

Mental reed - with nature
Splashes volume non-kinology brain is developed
If in the image of an inner, there are irregularities
No of nonsense medicine, God will forgive me.

Like imaginary Van Gogh, Live Prod
Waiting for a sore puncture, and I am a little flyer and Plato.
Futor Breast Cardboard, Sealer Art -Front
Stroking the Smak in the GOB, this life is hard rock.

Fuck who you are!
What is your name!
You're not my kent you are not my friend
I go on stage, torture a bold sound,
And you stand and see how they are sprunt.
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In plague or hunger
I will negotiate this city!