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текст песни

Spiky house light
I want to play with you
Don't write to me at all
I am it, the sofa and the dick
Burko coughed slightly
It's a hard time now
Bo-bo-bo mumu lying down
We're in tucked places
Blow air and inhale
It's hard to say it's mother
The truth of the stars is nothing
The snow melted with a bull
Dark Kosumbek strangles
He scratches his turnip with his baklashka
I keep my eyes peeled for him
From the window in denim jeans
Suddenly it became brittle again
Fall, fall, but grab
Bones hear the bush under the snow
Fell languid, lying upside down
I have already begun to imagine
I remember closing it
Window; I'm woven like cloth

There's more than just a squeak in my head
But I also got stuck
What does down mean? Is there turf there?
There's no snowdrift, it's not summer
What if it was summer
Not illuminated by moonlight
Turned out; The leaves are screaming
Trees
Sparrow feathers stick out on display
Fighting in a puddle for all of us
They break each other's bones with their beaks
In Korost, for Crimea and for Donbass
Snails crawl in a dying puddle
It might be torture for them to walk through blood
But when they crawl towards each other
Shell fragments fly in a circle
Shell fragments fly in a circle