Миша Маваши - Образ
текст песни

In my eyes are the snowy steppes distant
And here your traces lead to the house instantly
Cruel winds take out the soil from under the feet
And even with the knocked out fingers I will lower the trigger

And you throw a stone in my back and run behind the herd
Not morality, no health, she is your reward
Get and sign, and now I have come from here!
Illiterate, half -dead, finished bastard!

I'm a sport, we are all punctured to the brain of bones
We do not read books, we do not watch news
We throw Ziga near a pear, horizontal bars, even a cold!
What a heresy, I have been bored with this!

Remember your ancestors, the sun shines behind the horizon
Gold in the shower fell, sprayed, turned into bronze!
The lungs oil oil, the depth of heaven sparkles
Motives are not needed for a serial killer.

Rotten fur in the inside-skirt shiny
To row everything for yourself-there is a credo of the present!
The power of fists and fins remove interference
There is nothing more proud of, such successes

Fists break, sharp blades bend
The eyes have long gone out, but still laugh
Easily bent in the arc life of any back
A healthy image represents a different picture!