вышел покурить - беломорка
текст песни

Shabby benches, cigarettes, arches
Warm words for empty gifts
The world in your hands has given up habits
Now I'm dying in normal mode
Don't shout for personal reasons, sit on the lever
The news is sad today, the hearth has gone out
Don't sweat the small stuff, I'm entering her chakras
When it lands on the fang, don’t slurp too much
Inexpensive pub, a little relaxed
Some are fashionable, some are timeless, and some are popular.
The plastic melted and dripped onto the body
Bad boy tried space and flew away
Athletics on the isichakh on the padik we wither
Children were found in cabbage for a reason - in vegetables
The price is not in things but it smells of something
No fucking way you were born in a shirt
My childhood smelled like Belomorka
Hunting to wash the memory with detergent
Maybe it will be useful, my eyes pop out of my head
If there is a mess, then cut the motherfuckers on the blade
Advice will not lead to anything good
My sunny day goes by car by car
What the airfield was sad about, about whom the stars were falling
Went out for a smoke got a little loaded