Текст песни Гамора - Паранойя

These paintings are stacked together
With the soul of all the cattle also remains imaginary
Yards, emptiness, multiply all notes
Every day wondering: Who are you?
Friends on the fingers. Over the years, only became less
Dream, probably not very true become thin
Thoughts thrown, the principles are empty for a long time
I would have shot himself - the cartridges are single
Fathers gave us life, and putting morality
I as plywood that flies but steel
Smarter not become, over the years it seems glupeyut
Thousand thoughts on the notebook, that's what I have
Not at all different - it's innate, I'm sick
Three different life later lay down in epic
About three different people, three different fates
Maybe life is not fair, God to judge
Chorus