Крайс - реальности нет
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Крайс - реальности нет - оригинальный текст песни, перевод, видео
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это музыка станций, и чем больше слов, тем меньше конгломераций,
все распадаются,
на следующей станции,
вагончик тронется, а он останется,
и так распалась группа, ну что? как ?нравится?
предупреждали ведь, о последней станции.
знали на что вы шли, знали как кончается,
все всегда все знают, но никто не радуется.
дальше все по традиции,
засрать того с кем был по принципу,
он уже не брат, он такой секой,
в общем все так же, как с сукой любовью.
люди не меняются, они стоят на месте,
это не прогресс, не эволюция, честно,
это всего лишь странные люди,
не конгрессмены, ни политики,
они как старухи-старички,
обсуждают за спинами, вяжут носочки крестиком,
и не уместно говорить о людях хорошо,
если видишь что-то хорошее, значит не туда пошел, значит тоже изгой,
значит ты тоже тварь,
и добро пожаловать в наш клуб, жуликов наркоманов,
и если он поэт, то явно хулиган он,
ходит с ноггано, или со стечкиным,
ночью убивает женщин,
занимается каннибализмом,
а в детстве издевался над котятами,
и вообще не странно что пишет он стихи,
сейчас все такие, сейчас такая мода.
Это не мейнстрим, как подвернутые джинсы, в любую погоду,
Здесь не о политике, и не о какой-то даме,
здесь о целом, в общем,
про общество
над нами, рядом, да и вообще кругом.
Куда ты не посмотришь, везде как кошкин дом,
везде кто-то под кем-то,
круговорот силы в природе,
без лишнего контента,
не смешивая разные элементы,
судьба накажет каждого, кто не был отмщен,
ведь все же видит бог, а может и не видит,
и это просто запись, на каком-то старом видике.
мы люди-призраки, живем во вчерашнем дне,
задумался,
аж страшно..
может реальности нет.
Здесь не о политике, и не о какой-то даме,
здесь о целом, в общем,
про общество
над нами, рядом, да и вообще кругом.
Куда ты не посмотришь, везде как кошкин дом,
везде кто-то под кем-то,
круговорот силы в природе,
без лишнего контента,
не смешивая разные элементы,
судьба накажет каждого, кто не был отмщен,
ведь все же видит бог, а может и не видит,
и это просто запись, на каком-то старом видике.
мы люди-призраки, живем во вчерашнем дне,
задумался,
аж страшно..
может реальности нет.
These are the music of stations, and the more words, the less conglomerations,
Everyone breaks up
at the next station,
The trailer will move, and he will remain,
And so the group broke up, well what? How?
They warned, after all, about the last station.
They knew what you went to, knew how it ends,
Everyone always knows everything, but no one is happy.
Then everything is by tradition,
to pour with who was on the principle,
He is no longer a brother, he is such a sequesty,
In general, everything is the same as with a bitch.
People do not change, they stand still
This is not progress, not evolution, honestly,
These are just strange people
Not congressmen, nor politics,
They are like an old woman-old woman
discuss behind their backs, knit socks with a cross,
And it is not appropriate to talk about people well,
If you see something good, then you went the wrong way, then also an outcast,
So you are a creature too
And welcome to our club, crooks of drug addicts,
And if he is a poet, then he is clearly a bully,
walks with a nail, or with Stechkin,
It kills women at night
is engaged in cannibalism,
And in childhood, he mocked the kittens,
And it’s not strange at all that he writes poetry,
Now everyone is like that, now such a fashion.
This is not a mainstream, like tired jeans, in any weather,
Here is not about politics, and not about some lady,
Here about the whole, in general,
About society
Above us, nearby, and indeed around.
Wherever you do not look, everywhere like a cat house,
Everywhere someone is under someone
The cycle of force in nature,
Without unnecessary content,
Without mixing different elements,
Fate will punish everyone who was not revenge,
After all, God still sees, or maybe he does not see,
And this is just a record, at some old vidica.
We are ghostly people, we live in yesterday,
I thought
already scary ..
Maybe there is no reality.
Here is not about politics, and not about some lady,
Here about the whole, in general,
About society
Above us, nearby, and indeed around.
Wherever you do not look, everywhere like a cat house,
Everywhere someone is under someone
The cycle of force in nature,
Without unnecessary content,
Without mixing different elements,
Fate will punish everyone who was not revenge,
After all, God still sees, or maybe he does not see,
And this is just a record, at some old vidica.
We are ghostly people, we live in yesterday,
I thought
already scary ..
Maybe there is no reality.
Everyone breaks up
at the next station,
The trailer will move, and he will remain,
And so the group broke up, well what? How?
They warned, after all, about the last station.
They knew what you went to, knew how it ends,
Everyone always knows everything, but no one is happy.
Then everything is by tradition,
to pour with who was on the principle,
He is no longer a brother, he is such a sequesty,
In general, everything is the same as with a bitch.
People do not change, they stand still
This is not progress, not evolution, honestly,
These are just strange people
Not congressmen, nor politics,
They are like an old woman-old woman
discuss behind their backs, knit socks with a cross,
And it is not appropriate to talk about people well,
If you see something good, then you went the wrong way, then also an outcast,
So you are a creature too
And welcome to our club, crooks of drug addicts,
And if he is a poet, then he is clearly a bully,
walks with a nail, or with Stechkin,
It kills women at night
is engaged in cannibalism,
And in childhood, he mocked the kittens,
And it’s not strange at all that he writes poetry,
Now everyone is like that, now such a fashion.
This is not a mainstream, like tired jeans, in any weather,
Here is not about politics, and not about some lady,
Here about the whole, in general,
About society
Above us, nearby, and indeed around.
Wherever you do not look, everywhere like a cat house,
Everywhere someone is under someone
The cycle of force in nature,
Without unnecessary content,
Without mixing different elements,
Fate will punish everyone who was not revenge,
After all, God still sees, or maybe he does not see,
And this is just a record, at some old vidica.
We are ghostly people, we live in yesterday,
I thought
already scary ..
Maybe there is no reality.
Here is not about politics, and not about some lady,
Here about the whole, in general,
About society
Above us, nearby, and indeed around.
Wherever you do not look, everywhere like a cat house,
Everywhere someone is under someone
The cycle of force in nature,
Without unnecessary content,
Without mixing different elements,
Fate will punish everyone who was not revenge,
After all, God still sees, or maybe he does not see,
And this is just a record, at some old vidica.
We are ghostly people, we live in yesterday,
I thought
already scary ..
Maybe there is no reality.
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