Текст песни записал - Центр

removal of the brain, floors broken lives
I'm good, but not swift, collared like a dog
we are not exported, we lay down on the grave of Rose
desomorphine corpses, we'll fly away, but after

I then load the autumn drowned in the lower
throwing in the texts of the phrases that you would cling
I hung up the load on the neck, choking smoke
dreams and broken dreams catch MOBILE

artificial imitation of the hundreds of projections
long run, and so far from the goal
filled to itself the price, if sold
for the hryvnia and without bucks but I thanked so

I do not potdakival always have an opinion
their manners, through the wire in your ears
if you hear that I somewhere near the wind
white stripes, the creator of dark matter