Легенды Про... - Почему пустеют улицы
текст песни

When the door opens, who will stand behind her?
What will I talk about and what news to wait for?
These questions as one merged together
A bunch of colors was in the head - and not a single picture.
How to patch these holes when my ship drown
I did not go crazy, I just could not be understood by someone.
He reassured himself, remaining lying on the bed.
Thoughts ate inside at the sight of people in a white coat.
There was no point in solving problems in the ward,
How many roads I destroyed and how many days there were sour.
"What was I sent for?" - yelled in attacks of anger
Every day I looked up and waited for the sky to answer.
He was even more devoted to himself than himself,
And to contact him, thoughts came to mind
About suicide in the ward that as an operator of communication
It will be able to connect you with him - the service of euthanasia.
He drowned himself in the mud that Azia supplied
I could not forgive himself that he had not begun to send before.
All this disgrace led to one -
Find the one who treated it, who helped to drown.

All these loud conversations are so easy to forget
All these golden mountains are only sand hills.
I cannot show you what I do not want to hide all the time.
No, this is not a song about love, so you may not cry.

Dog:
Someone is better to be hungry and angry,
It is easier for someone to be offended and well-fed,
It is difficult for someone to hold the mouth closed,
But there are always those who like to be silent with appetite.
To whom to open, to whom to leave the entrance closed
Someone with a dirty paw or a clean hoof.
Who here considers himself a fool stuffed -
Raise your hands, you are not visible.
You can’t see the bottom of my evil, now you are ashamed,
Blood on asphalt jam under the guise
Romance - primitive cattle,
She was so curious, insulting.
She, like everyone else, made a sieve from her heart
My Fata-Morgana was looking for what was hidden there.
But I am not your woolen sweater.
I am for the one that is in each - here is my choice.

All these loud conversations are so easy to forget
All these golden mountains are only sand hills.
I cannot show you what I do not want to hide all the time.
No, this is not a song about love, so you may not cry.

Smoke:
What should I do? What do i do? BUT?
Questions tormented again, the throat rushed from resentment.
Broken life and view: not washed and does not brit.
Soon the neighbor will come, at least hang out.
He says a lot to his woman RITKO
But the gas does not burn in his small -sized,
Because there, outside the Kremlin wall
The gathering confused destroys the ruble.
And all these parties, calls, speech - speech -
The work of the well -known group for all of the well -known group.
And in general, in general, this political yadra
Dischard is no better than from a garbage bucket.
Perhaps he is right, yes, but as you know,
There is little word idle,
There are many questions in my head, but there is no place alone:
"What did you do so that everything is different?"

All these loud conversations are so easy to forget
All these golden mountains are only sand hills.
I cannot show you what I do not want to hide all the time.
No, this is not a song about love, so you may not cry.