уннв - 04. Музыкальная шкатулка
текст песни

The book takes away from the first sheet,
Kube in Vienna Poky,
One hundred out of one hundred give your life an incentive.
To heaven, Bam-Bam, Bigelou jumped from needles.
Fucking as Desert Eagle Batkin Floo,
Gypsies fucking car.
Kill time, I go in tone
Musical box along with a jamb.
The level of corpses by which
Without traces
The decibels of sound from builders to Marikov are delivered.
Dreams in the details and not to remember - [Bad Word] Off!
The conversations of the gods, the river came out of the banks.
On the scales, look for me, arrows of sand clock.
At this time, the blue do not expect salvation!
I smoke and fuck me all the earthquakes,
Music, plants, casket not the last
And soon the birth of birth, and the lips are back in the foam
You can’t catch, thump, dangerous movement.
I play with a shadow, I wake up greens.
It is eating, even old stump moves with its rolls.
The first in this topic is not killed by you from birth,
Fucked will come to the system. Let's kill me!
Patience burst, I am without money, I am a king of triumph!

Pathologists saw us cried,
Under the bosks at the output in the brain, only scribbles ...
Let the madhouse, please, I am a dove of the asphalt color,
I would have fluttering in the skies and shut up a somersault there.
Black Black Bulik, the system rivets us so much,
But this shallow body had all evil in life.
I hammered the masses of air, our style is an unlucky cherry,
You are getting stuffy.
We will not burn like cigarette butts, walks along your towers,
You were moved by an ambulance from a music box ...
From Bong as a bat in a bath, tightly killed - not you!
We are chopping for the brain, like fucking boots.
Catch the dots in Vienna, hit the tags with a hairdryer,
A well -fed salad with vegetables for a couple of liters for kidneys ...
We blown up for your wars, we are for good all over the world
And they leaned on him.
Dance the bastards yourself under your soap puffs,
I would like to be Dorian Gray, but you are a dead for a day ...
Call the firefighters, and blasphemy, all went crazy and blew off,
From the musical casket, all the overdoors of the hapan.
The soul will not become stones, they wisely fell into Dali,
Measured the meaning, do not go there with giblets ...
Do not go there with giblets.
Four letters in columns, dreams in reality with miracles ...

My pussy friends consider me a reptile.
Four strange letters stood nearby again.
Katafalk on the bricks 180 in the Moscow Ring Road.
I got your pinaclado with poison.
The musical box yelled with black obscenities,
Help find the work of three basement acrobats.
Your body is under the sight, monkeys with an automaton,
In the pit three meters deep, there is no price to your carats!
Did the matter - do you need to hide the body, or what's there?
I trust the insolents, scoundrels and rollers.
Decided to fry from fate? They will find prints.
In this place, a miserable price of your riddles is worthless.
Boxes, boxes, boxes, but hands are short
Reach the brains that lie at the bottom of the river.
Young shell, in it - rotten old people,
All nightmares are behind, ghosts do not believe in us.
The sees were cut off, drive into jambs.
Sound amplitude causes colic.
From such fashionable melodies, the modes were fucking,
Curious in the morning they sweep the wipers.
Black squares and circles, and triangles,
The righteous and conductors from the word "waterman".
In the shit, your tapuli will slip out from under the feet,
Here on the black day the lights can steal.

What seemed to hell, it turned out to be someone's backwards ...