Текст песни pyrokinesis - Искусство - Хуйня

heart pounding
I was talentless, God's fool
I was late and all lines
out of place at the wrong time
no awards or orders and personal
only I
that there is always wandering around the edges
and from extreme to extreme
to hell and then himself in heaven to bear
build and destroy to build from scratch
and I live by the motto
I live under the motto
I live under the motto

Art-garbage
AT AT
not without tarnish the whole look
It became a beacon of unprincipled
I surrendered to the museum
and alone shall not be more than the value of
after all
Art-garbage
not without tarnish the whole look
It became a beacon of unprincipled
I surrendered to the museum
and alone shall not be more than the value of

On the walls that the art of writing, garbage
And I write in a notebook that art-garbage
On the canvas draw-art garbage
And all my songs have art-garbage

On On
On the walls, in doorways
On the roof, on the walls
In notebooks, doors
On On
In the toilets, subway
arrest
Paints cylinders words
On On
What art = garbage

So lonely and empty
to live this life, there is an art
We denounce their lives
this creativity even unnecessary in principle
In the bus on the glass sweating
draw a circle
and sad lybu
and if there is a choice
We are waiting for new songs and books
We all feel sad
everywhere Huet
and everywhere is art

Art in words
The art of love
The art created by people
For some, it is light
For others, it is rot
But as always in general all the art-garbage
And no heart lights
And no heart lights

But why in the soul dull
And why do we climb out of their way
Trying to find
Trying to find
Trying to find
But at least a drop of art

On On
On the walls, in doorways
On the roof, on the walls
In notebooks, doors
On On
In the toilets, subway
arrest
Paints cylinders words