плюшевый - Мёртвые души
текст песни

Is my soul dead? No, she was killed by a man, a music lover has a full time of harmful habits. And even if under this matter, the text is crushed by the delirium by the press, then skillful clerks are still cherished with a chalk. Indeed, in these circles, literality is in price, the meaning of ornate phrases often melts like snow, there is simply no priority here. Here, the KACh indicator and the napness of the texts are not otherwise, it is completely completely forgotten about the load of the semantic. You scrap rhyme for the sake of rhyme and you are generally a man, come closer, bend, congratulations from the heart. I do not need to treat that the shower is in the tracks, then you are not worth a penny then yours. And even a muse of breath no closer to a step towards a masterpiece, the era of poets passed. Among your thoughts, it is difficult to breathe, all only water shit from the ears. Yes, and my brain is Ushatan, only the thoughts stiff in my head are flickering. When will people have their opinion? So far, at least fuck them fuck them like a flock of pigeons. I’m sure the day will come, I hope neither the last nor the Pompei, we will move us neither fashion fashion, but the originality of our own ideas.