хаски х рич - тараканий Бог
текст песни

Stopping racing
Holding on to the cockpits side
The cockroach in prayer rises his paws up
And from above - a man, shaking God
City,
Raising the washed gate
Demonstrates the burrows
Smiles -
A acidic mocketing comes out
The sun licks the banter
I settled down ... where?
Bypassing a couple of streets
The tram was stubborn. Stuffy
Drove the hut, darling
The moron old -timed taxi park
Having parked, squeals like a dog
Allowing the shrugging eyes to rebuke me
I drive and drive on the very handle
Brack - here, I push the door
Thick your feet a firm
I'm walking, after me the dead of the dead is squinting,
Drowning in cabinet
His crypt does not blind his decoration
But he himself climbed there - so
Without engraving the initials and lists of numbers
Cockroaches climb into the pounds
Stopping racing
Holding on to the cockpits side
The cockroach in prayer rises his paws up
And from above - a man, shaking God
Five years Orgy. Five years of sorrow
Five years of bitter years puffed over me, hunching,
Bastard.
My dream is to blind
At least finally looking out
Mom, girl, whose body longed to try,
Remembers your every sermon
Hands behind the lower back. Cancer
Walls of walls keep a volley sob
Ah, if he wouldn’t take me then?
May I dream about how he ... how he
Writhes, grabbing the air
On the glove compartment, the teddy of the icons grimaces
They came. A fellow traveler is a stench bag
It is overlooking the holes
Gloomy laugh
I will fall asleep, for so many days I prayed feignedly ...
Finally he left sleeping pills
And she, this is connected, dirty,
Having drove off the cockagun orava,
Estrates to a cockroach poison
Stuffy
Stopping racing
Holding on to the cockpits side
The cockroach in prayer rises his paws up
And from above - a man, shaking God
Facial fabric lost emotions
Capacities Requiem. Mozart's cockroaches
On the floor - the bite of the god is mutilated
Beat the door to the door of the human god
Stuffy
Heart is heart -shaped, six corns
I'm a small angry and my day is not silent
On the table-land of the forty salt
Aerosolian dignitary
What kind of God was in my apartment?
The sterile world will not accept me to himself
I pray a pack of Prima forgotten by someone
So that this strange climate does not twist me
A ... tense spikes under the belly
Life Week - Tarakani Day
Shook off all thoughts with a spirit from the mustache
I will fill my soul and go into the air - stuffy
Ha ... they told me what will happen tomorrow
The parasite will cut down the slipper of the goddess
With fear in a cramp, the paw:
In a cockroach lava or in a cockroach laurel?
Stopping racing
Holding on to the cockpits side
The cockroach in prayer rises his paws up
And from above - a man, shaking God