Текст песни Sатана на Танке - Великие Поэты Современности

Everyone misses itself by a poet, musician and creator
And with a sad daily calling himself a wrestler.
Not like everything inside, nor such as everything is outside,
But the differences from others, the maximum is a funny face.

Two quintes closed in a circle - type atmosphere fucking!
With the text philosophical as well - how to walk in the winter in the winter!
And at the beginning of the pressure of the Pads, the noise of rain has been convicted,
Fucky trustor - how in the woods under the Christmas tree struck!

Vikings float the crowd on the drakery of fighting,
It would be necessary to add at the end that Walhalla is waiting for them, fucking.
In the fur coat, got behind the computer and in the header to strengthen the feeling
Posted by the wise text - as destinies.

Satan throw the pentagram pentagram drawing
To be afraid later in the dark in the sort of passing!
Attaching the sacred spray on his computer -
With candlelight reading the pawing drinking with milk!

Monotonous Ebanina Heap Mountains write all
Everyone thinks he recorded the pussy track.
Smart words add more, and what they mean fuck,
You feel so you see - you have a poet from God.

Unicumes are completely and near, everyone seems his talent.
Just fucking for the start of the books read the Eblan!
On the Pulitzer pulls the verse, he called the walker
And resting on the Internet like you are waiting for a pedestal!

Everyone misses itself by a poet, musician and creator
And with a sad daily calling himself a wrestler.
Not like everything inside, nor such as everything is outside,
But the differences from others, the maximum is a funny face.