Текст песни Зимовье зверей - Никто, кроме Ницше

I sing in the voice recorders
His friends old songs.
I remember their phones,
To finish singing these songs together.

I propagated the strange tales
On defective typewriter.
And travel up along the decoupling,
Not even noticing the error.

My job is simple -
I dust blown off the sheet
And I go to those places,
Where are together again empty.

My routes are simple,
I chop off bridges.
My job is empty, as the world,
In which there is no sense ...

I watch the drama
In a not very logical niche.
I know exactly what it means to others,
And I do not love anyone other than Nietzsche.

Do not get around in dreams without prophecies,
A reality - what you want, and will find it.
Of all the friends I solitudes
I choose where more reliable.

My job is simple -
I dust blown off the sheet
And I go to those places,
Where the void instead of words.

My routes are simple,
I set fire to the tails.
My job is empty, like life,
In which there is no sense ...
(Until the pain does not make sense.
There is only the will,
Will the pain ...)

I sing in the voice recorders
His friends new songs.
I forget their phones,
To forget these songs together.

Of all the friends I solitudes
I choose the one that is closer to me.
And once again lying to her - so, by the way -
What I do not love anyone, even Nietzsche.

My job is simple -
I dust blown off the sheet
And I go to those places,
Where there is no chance of a hundred.

My routes are simple,
I chop off bridges.
My job is empty, like you,
In which there is no sense ...