Текст песни Shaagal - моя сюрреалистичная история

Some time ago I was still not married and not drunk
Now, in Paris, the thought led by the soon return to the roots
At night, I am filled, as if the fallen fellow flying without noticing a spear in the morning
Four niggas under the grime singing smoke on the lawn in front of the Louvre hookah

How many here at the horse? I can't remember, why am I in this game
Wlow like in Nora or skin? How much am I here and how much in it are?
Themis of the eyelids clutching quietly sleeping on his side, and my dreams - for the bottom, from childhood - Cami
Twelve years on board, my ship is a social mine for the bottom
Among the sleepy valleys, sleepy one
Horseman without a head behind and he is close, the ghost of a cavalryman from kinocartin
I would tell him, you know, I would at least alone on the Horde
I would have every ocean at least one on board, only the black pearl is not visible in the port