Текст песни Дарья Трайден. - Прятаться.

Hiding from the three words in a cocoon of blankets,
Hold the palm heart, pulse counting.
Think about what is waiting there still your station
Each train, which to you not to come.
In the minds of others asleep stroking hands,
To leave as quietly and evil, how come,
Collect each of the fragments of an aging whore
The image of that which you do something holy given.
Hate the name to "and" confused letters,
Desperately quickly drawing words.
Choking from songs from chisel.Mne in days
Not enough for you to tell the minutes,
Now that memory?
Ropes of falseness, impotence pistols trusosti.Snov
Only dva.I some morning,
When the memory does not want to move on,
When I did not remember all this hell.