Текст песни leshakenny - Алгоритм

Boring sounds make the words a minute,
While the clock is waiting for a second night will back them.
Rod poetry mashed up holes and air spёrtym
From the open door breathe (...)
Poherennogo antediluvian tape,
What's in a hurry to die without a murmur.
Tablecloth stained ash
Ramshackle soaked drinking and summer heat,
What if you sell it, and to remember his childhood,
No matter the consequences,
And if I'm not to blame, then who? The same algorithm.

It burned everything prospirtovana paper and thrown,
As (...) and crimson flames burn down
And do not change my rhythm,
Perhaps thrown shaver still does not shave.
Stuffed on a mobile phone number is the same algorithm

Sounds do not cure the soul, but until you can hear listen,
After all, this whisper darn missing something.
Just give me, give me a chance last
Wipe the smoke from this air
Created and sotryasёnny word.
In the light of broken lamps can not see the sun,
Warms only one dream of not overdue & quot; & quot ;. sorry
Beaten rhymes that from the outside, from the inside
But something has not been told .. So was said ..

Burned everything, and cast paper prospirtovana
As (...) and crimson flames burn down
And do not change my rhythm,
Perhaps thrown shaver still does not shave.
Stuffed on a mobile phone number is the same algorithm.