Krec - Сталкер
текст песни

Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older
Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older
Well, tell me how you like this world, brotherly heart
What do you think about when the orchestra stops?
Street actions filling the minutes with silence
Sad shots that you took but didn't print
What do you dream about, what horizons and distances?
When parents got tired of the usual scandal
What helps if the day turns out to be bad
And sickening like cold porridge for breakfast
What kind of questions do you solve, what kind of riddles
They pierce the soul at the sight of a sunset
Throwing a stone at a peregrine falcon's cabin under an overpass
On purpose, but there’s no one to even admit it to
Have you heard that the world mistakes kindness for weakness?
And they themselves demand us to obey orders
According to this theory, someone without fear
Will leave the house and disappear like a stalker
Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older
Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older
Let's quickly run into the arms of summer and twilight
The noise of the trains drowns out the madness
Just listen to the alarming pulse of the outskirts
Until my palms began to tingle
I squeeze the bits, I hit the disk of the moon in the reflection
Rivers cold as weapons and attitude
I would be a hermit, but something doesn’t fit here
In the morning the eyelids are filled with heaviness
On wild beaches they burned out retinas with fires
Hey wanderer, tell me what’s beyond in the astral plane
Freestyle, it’s impossible to imagine life without expulsions
It doesn't matter whether ridicule or confession flies
Flocks flocked to the banner trying to appear more mature
Many were enough for a couple of paragraphs
The Last of the Mohicans took a long time
To cut your veins slowly
Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older
Smoke from the fire, the ashes of stories are carried into the sky
Secretly along locked balconies, as if from captivity
It's a hectic time, the night will cover the area with a black blanket
The sirens are howling and by morning we are years older