минус - Усталость
текст песни

Used to lack of sleep, I used not to be well -fed
So many things for every day and how much things were forgotten
In the studio with the kids killed, blue
For those who mastered my character, thank you very much
So knocked, fell without strength
Accelerated in alleys, swayed under the bass
Do not take it, allergies to the rags are oblique
Bonfires burned in the rain, we ate kerosene
Tired of balabols, although he himself was stupid
Heroes on the Web, nicknames and posts
Bazars are thieves, fucking washed down
Hello from ... Russia's nerds
I will gravate CD to gray hair
... in your mp3
Brakes got tired, pull the smile
I resurrected Bodryak, Fatigue Sorry
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Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave
God forgive, we drink smoke, but we will quit
In the midst of longing in our souls autumn
Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave
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Tired himself, cities and time flows
Through the smoke of loss with the smell of April
We steal there, we steal here and in general we steal
I am writing myself, I write here and under the ringing of a drop
They sang your notes, your music notes
I was looking for routes, Time of Troubles
The violin is aching in the cold, it seems to be tired
I did not become cock, did not
Fell if it fell, because the flight is free
Hands, air, hall, I'm not a percentage, I'm full
Not hungry grief, because life matures the years
There were wounds, salt, and I will add soda
Honeycombs have been traveled in my sorrow
Now we scream, do not be silent, previously silent
Now, hands, air, now hands in the sky
You heard this voice, but I was not there
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Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave
God forgive, we drink smoke, but we will quit
In the midst of longing in our souls autumn
Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave
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Tired. There are too many mistakes
Stop, rolled, well, thank God
And so it is impossible to hike, lazy and satisfied
It’s dark in my apartment when curtains are on the windows
When there are curtains on the windows, I'm tired or something
Fight once at a time with my willpower
With my willpower, I master the grief
I will turn the mountain, you know, I'm stubborn
My sport is lines, sometimes we introduce dopping
We get up at sunrise, go there
Wiping his eyes, a smile in the bathroom
We burn at night until her young
We burn nights with hops or malt
We pass days with vicious greens
Lazy to pain, in notebooks not even handwriting
Tired of getting tired, ahh, point.
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Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave
God forgive, we drink smoke, but we will quit
In the midst of longing in our souls autumn
Tired is not tired, but the music will not leave