Singer: The crematorium

CrematoriumBanderlogdepression

The dead don't play, the dead don't sing.

We loved to dance
Barefoot on broken glass,
They know how to swim in hydrochloric acid
And walk on thin ice...

And then, in the early afternoon, again opened his eyes,
She told me about the mystery of sleep
That all eventually will melt without a trace,
Like the wine that was drunk yesterday...

We loved to pretend we were crazy
And the whole day blew dust in the eyes
With only one goal - to hold on to the night, and then
Pull off your pants, and shout: "Hurrah!"

You are worthy brushes of the Fleming I am not worthy daub of a painter.

Ashes of dreams, that's all that was left to us.

She loves men, she loves the strawberry ice.

You're smart and I'm stupid,
No matter which of us gives out.
Even if I'm lucky
And in my hand will be ACE,
Your will be the Joker.

We will tear the pillars
we will cancel the border
Oh, little girl,
with the look of a she-wolf.

Parasitism, drunkenness, ***tion
Boogie-woogie, rock-n-roll

Depressed spirit, a frightened look,
And the angels are all as one, say:
"Of those who have gone, not coming back".
But every word conceals deceit,
And the world outside the window is empty as a drum,
Empty inside and so full of glass...

Sometimes you dancing the twist,
Sometimes I drink nazepam,
Say you're a fatalist,
An alcoholic, a drug addict.
No one loves you,
No one likes you.
But you don't cry, the sun
Rise again,
Your train leaves tomorrow
Where plays jazz
Our most fun on this planet ensemble!

Sleep sweet sleep, do not remember the past.
The house where you lived, empty and abandoned.
And moss starts to grow on the plate of the tomb,
Oh, little girl with a look wolf.