Текст песни Гена Сорокин - Росток

That year I plant so the head is empty
He smashed his hands in the blood, but all the same loophole intact.
Like my destiny tselafan cloudy
Ever tails when I put forth an eagle.

Plowing worthless on scorched borozdochkah,
I turn into a bell, but would would rain
My God, I left on the steps of time
Trivia scoring pockets, and behind the walls

Neighbors consume electricity as sugar
On the steel flour fried pancakes like grenades
Greedily munching iron or Teflon
The food falgu sleep hiding synthetic padding

In the morning if new job
Pick up the electrodes to climb the higher quota
And I'm in the field, the ashes of Ravana to shreds
My share to be skinny

But yet remains standing
On Cloquet land hangover waiting luck
At the half, half a fool
In my hand sapling. This is the last chance.

Where is the door
I'm used to it
To the ground soon

A total Conway assumptions and hot and cold out
I began to notice that the outside is still empty
Inside the densely packed powder container
And all the lights pop trying to knock spark

What is the result of works Storchai even chickens
Now Santa Claus, not Santa Claus, and the nose in powder
Let's chew stuffed giblets price
No, I pass everything prepared just for you.

In my veins and a drop of dew fertilizer
I cut lengthwise edge what not to do.
But each day burns agricultural,
And his hands once again intact and the knife all the toupee.

Where is the door
I'm used to it
To the ground soon