Баста - С Надеждой на Крылья
текст песни

With hope on the wings living on the verge
Sung at the very edge
Let it be a little naive, without a clear plan
But with the hope of wings
With hope on the wings living on the verge
Sung at the very edge
Let it be a little naive, without a clear plan
But with the hope of wings

On cold roofs with imposing widespread pace
Having burst out fear and pain in the bottomless mines
Black and white bridgehead, like a chess board
Dedicated entrance, yes, but how the soul sings there

Instead of sunset for shabby dorms and five -story buildings
Smoke and soot from factory orange-rusted wells
Sleeping area, fees and a daring tone of assimilation
He realized that this world is a huge orphanage

Make them in your skin
Take into their souls according to the cord, even with a storm
Six feelings like six six strings on the guitar
Waiting for the hall froze, dare brother, play them

Not everyone will understand, not everyone will find themselves in you
Will come once, leave forever
Not everyone will appreciate your talent and characteristic handwriting
And you will remain for them so one of the others

Without posters, without advertising on radio
A small club somewhere on the very outskirts
Self -fronted Flauses.
Plus a distribution in contact familiar spamers

There are only close and those who are on the lists in the hall
And you are alone behind the curtains with thoughts
It's too little by the mission
Can cancel everything, but here they give you micron

Minuses from the disk, the sound is not in Umat, the voice in the columns is quiet
Micron phonit and without fear hooping like a psycho
You read on a cry, the area knows by heart
And picking up the debut hit with you

As a result of a certain event July 22
You wake up famous, everything will be
Concerts, fees, clips, but that first exit
You can never forget the scene

But this will all be later, but for now two dozen hands under the ceiling
At the very edge is insanely happy
Without a clear plan, but with hope for the wings

Chorus

How many people, as many opinions
And it seems that sometimes everyone is smarter than me
How many people, the same number of truths
You are not a genius, hmm, pretend to them

Climinate the world challenge, fear of cowardly ghost
Where the stronger merged, the weak at the last climbed out
When the sage has lost the truth meaning
A fool in his palms brought the wise to him scattered beads

Huge urban hides the sun behind us behind us
Bored with each other, just spend the night in cold shacks
Just good people without the right to a miracle
And they are better than others, but I don't want to

My stories for those who are not afraid of love
For those whose open heart can accommodate the whole world
The bit sounds simple and somehow not fashionable, yes
But I appreciate the muscle not for the cold sound, but the heat in it

This music at sunset you look away so as not to cry again
In the course of our world, a crazy designer created and locked it in it to
For fun with excitement to torment us
My music is for those who are firm, someone imposed a vector
And over the mind in a cage
Driving crazy with his delicious ancestors
Was not understood and devoted, the doctor said it is treated

And now Sasha is not here
Each in front of God is a nag
In every music, bang, in each of us God
Beethoven, coming from school, sitting down behind the computer
Wrote a masterpiece all a minorous minor without knowing notes

Studio, or rather a foamwood balcony.
Wound on the remote control through the computer micro
Against the laws of the genre, against the imposed style
MS without a clear plan, but with the hope of wings

Chorus