Текст песни St1m - Час пик

I reflect in the windows of these concrete boxes
I'm not here and from the network for a long time they will pull the wire
Prison Rob or Office Suit
Meaning One: Life cuts us as Kostya Tszyu
In an endless traffic, hundreds of thousands of cars
In the city in which even the truth is built on lies
He can easily open the ball by the smell of money.
And then chop up with a laugh of your drops
Sky limit? For most caskombs limit
You saw if the sky is a hike dream
We are like a current in high-voltage lines of fate
To be part of the system you should be blunt!
Eternal rush hour and these robots are in a hurry
Spit on terabytes of data. I need a soul!
One shot, one chance - sweep it with good
If life disagrees with your opinion, argue with it

Give me a chance (my god) to stand up to the end
I'm so tired but
I would at least once in the sky
Shots in the clouds, let the burnt

I reflect in the windows of these concrete boxes
Instead of pictures in the album now a photorobot
I am given this chance to someone more than no reason
But fate again gives orientation to the signposts
Behind their turns, happiness and I will break
You see a huge megapolis. I am empty.
And these highways are eliminated someone's hope
That some comforts for other fun
On this chessboard for a long time there is no figures
Finish tape behind already, but I run
Under the hum of a junk crowd, hypocritical zoo
And those whose names should not be called out loud
My universe exists outside of these rules
Often the leader who believed, and not the one who rules
We are robbed, selecting the main right to tomorrow
But I rupt this vicious circle if it is closed

Give me a chance (my god) to stand up to the end
I'm so tired but
I would at least once in the sky
Shots in the clouds, let the burnt