Пчела - Димон
текст песни

Summer weekdays, all the same.
Multi -storey houses, breathes the city with asphalt wet
Around people, fuss in the subway, to everyone to work, as in a bistro.
Diman spends a lot of useful time
Gaming devices
The regions of the southwest were glad to him
Jokes on the screw, it turned out the goal alone:
Love for mom, without five minutes work
Work on verses and recording of a friend
Who was with me in his eyes fell
Like fragments of broken glass.
Dogs of the train cut the rails.
Aircraft, flights, someone two steps
On two legs, he builds these smiles on his lips.
Friends say: stop.
Everything that hangs in the balance or the epaulets are fanned or you are an unhealthy or everything is worth
Or you stuck or you are a magnet.
A couple of lines of Diman is fair
the stream will become a river, the river will fall into the bay
The agenda. The military registration and enlistment office. A red star.
And again, Uncle Hera teases with a finger
Diman writes by points and he can’t go there.
And all around our cards tumbling and suddenly these patsies in the apartment
Vodka, freestyle, shawlum smoked
And these adhils are beautiful, as in the picture
Then they reminded me of Chillout in an American film, Chillaut in an American film.

The drafts were distant from the keyhole.
That we smoked here five minutes ago no longer important
Wet napkins, dry eyes and late, come on the brakes.
The drafts were distant from the keyhole.
That we smoked here five minutes ago no longer important
Wet napkins, dry eyes and late, come on the brakes.

The world seems to have froze for a minute
By morning, I will find my miracle in which or in cigarette, Diman thought.
Fate with him will play cruel games
On the plan -b - the subscriber does not answer
Do not call me
Diman in search, in search of Radar networks
give someone money for nothing
in pairs everything in the cinema
Dimon looks from the window at passers -by as in an illusion
The apartment became a croak, yellow fingers from cigarettes
Even mom noticed - I carry some nonsense
The roof goes, the hands of their children are breaking friends and friends who believed in me
performed performance for a long time, poems are not completed
Sketches are burned under the flame of hot fire
Time to return back
Nothing to write, and who are these people to listen and delve into?
Be a fool
Put on me a white shirt
Sanitar people took me to these chambers, to these chambers

The drafts were distant from the keyhole.
That we smoked here five minutes ago no longer important
Wet napkins, dry eyes and late, come on the brakes.
The drafts were distant from the keyhole.
That we smoked here five minutes ago no longer important
Wet napkins, dry eyes and late, come on the brakes.