ExciterGP - Писатель
текст песни

Nobody loves my books, as if my syllable is Trivial.
In attempts in vain to build a memorial from words
I forgot that the world is not only based on the letters,
But in the beginning there was a word, the rest followed him.

Nobody loves my books, but the word is my incentive to live.
He did not ask the gods to people, did not strive for racks.
We are all in an attempt to print in time.
God sees, by no means evil I want to burden the reader

Az, Buki, Vydi, Az, Buki, Vydi.
May the word bend under the power of thought more than copper.
Az, Buki, lead
Glory to me will not be a sneak.
- Yes, you have little shines there! -
After reading the book, my friend answered me
Hinting that he does not fool and rolled his spirit back.
“Look around people! The only trouble is that your books are true!
Not that century, dude, to do this.
Cutting truth!
You even shoot past milk!
Fucking truth!
Forget about this, sales of your time.
Non -alkaric truth!
After all, no one needs this fuck!
Who loves when the soul is unsafe?
Bastard, drive your art of mutual!

Nobody loves my books, although he has already passed more than once
Through the alchemy of metaphors, physics of heavy phrases.
I am always an amateur, no matter how much I spend summer
To science. Maybe here is the reason for the forever rotten fetus?

Started by study.
Books of classics instead of icons. The fiction promised torment.
Not to be only light and inert,
It is necessary that the distant space is trembling when reading.

Yes, this is magic, it's hard and paid
I took years and desire, xs, what there with talent,
The year and desire interfered, well, yes ...
A magician with meaning under a shawl ... Well, yes ....
I created bare essence. The poor thing was frozen.
Here you have a sweater, a little sparkles.
Everything is sewn with a thread of friendly phrases,
There is not a piece of fabric, then a complete paragraph!
Run, baby, teach people happiness
And indicate them the border of the created walls by them.
You are completely all about the world around
Adding the wrong rules to the game.
Lit. Agent, why are you saying “she is terrible”?
In the sense of "Caracurt, an embroidery style"?
I just sought not to leave and a chance
The fact that he wanders behind us from the very youth!
All without embellishment
But I caused anger at the reader only a couple of phrases
Do not write! It was not worse
Creator whose book is Hell Hyperbol!
Friendly clapped on the shoulder, saying “the author is blessed and poor,
Whose word is the ideal and whose credo in books is true! ”
The only trouble is that your books are true!
Dude, I do not argue, it's strong!
Cutting truth!
It is so strong that it is even disgusting.
Fucking truth!
Understand, blind for colors do not rub
Non -alkaric truth!
You yourself, not wanting that, declared a war to the world.
Who loves when the soul is unsafe?
Bastard, drive your art of mutual!

The empire is a lie.
Even the conscience spids from the hotel a sign “Do not disturb!”.
To cling to the truth at least for someone!
It is a pity, it lives outside the complex of zones of comfort.

Birds took the wind to him
The pages that I pulled out of homeless books.
It seems that the roof of the house in the moonlight -
The only height that I achieved.

So let's fly, however,
Ground - not uneashed, braked - unbearable.
In your books is true! Fucking true!