Singer: Adaptation

Old wounds, dead memories.

You pray to mercury in the temples,
You chew and cherish dreams...
Every day cleaning the latrine,
In return only dreams
You want to become ashes...

Flew crazy years,
Filled blank pages.

The gods laugh with us. Mild euphoria.

Everyday circus, sweaty bus
Sleepy and zombie columns rod to nowhere...

Was, but gone, erased forever.

I died these days, I was ready forever
Killing your own world and burn their city...
But a voice whispered to me - "You dare not," wait!
I destroyed the whole world when parted with them...
And from these revelations of the crowd fall down
From the bosom bums to legal entities!

In your bed warm, but the cold rushes in at home.
So I would like to know that spring is coming.
But behind the doors of the cold - there is age ends,
And boots realism I trampled dirty snow.
Let every note more and more every reef more
Guitar is the soul and torn string on it...

You try to leave a mark on the wet sand...
Today it is not easy to sing, and tomorrow is doubly.
Bury all victory - dig out a shaky fear.
Spread your wings frayed - make ghostly sway!
Tightly encrypted and go out into the yard -
Will see your case and feel shame

What to wish for those who will be saved? -
To live-to live and prepare ourselves to something else...
We'll meet again,
We will meet again
Somewhere out there,
For unclear distant orbits
At the center of all stars.
The space is calling, he gives this power.
Time, it has no power over those
Who entered into eternity...

And when it's all over,
When will not care
All the words will spill out the names and ringtones will be forgotten,
Snow falls, and a photo album covered in yellow scab times
And their millstones peremenitsya eternity.
To take to love a man for what he is,
Take to kill him, knowing that you can do better and above...

The aesthetics of rebellion - she is so beautiful in the books
In magnitoalbom and other tusni unrelated
Toward what is called life,
Toward what is called death.

A vicious circle.
Dreams of my game.
What we are now? Who sees tomorrow? Who knew yesterday?

When winter retreats
And replaced April
The beauty of the warm soul of days
When you ache and tear into pieces.
When you sing like a wounded animal,
When you are flowing Creek
And something disturbing is knocking inside
This is the heart again begins to live.