Movski - Долгая Прогулка
текст песни

"Everything is almost normal" - I admire the first line
On a piece of paper, by hand, clumsy handwriting.
"Almost", and the point here, you can’t say better,
It is like that holiday when everyone is bored.

Three puffs, it seems, got warmer,
We should get together with thoughts, do business.
The third day of the week, two of them wasted,
With this pace, either I get off or blow off.

It happens in different ways, pleases to eat a stop,
I don’t know how much he works, but I hope, for a long time.
Rummage to the point of the "finish".
And then if you stuck, then you’ll endure the hell.

I should have gone to me, refresh consciousness,
On the street now, however, is as fresh as in a sauna.
I make a control, put on slippers,
I cover my eyes tired of the day.

All Life mode, Damian plays in the ears,
The mood smoothly changes to the right one.
Friends, I'm nodding to them briefly,
There is no reason to communicate, and it suits me.

Everything is gradually, and as it should, in the right line,
I somehow fell out from everywhere and something did not return.
I thought, dragged on, after all for the first time
I realized that from this, it turns out, I only won.

Well, judge for yourself: plus zero stereotypes;
Freedom in their thoughts, let the mazes there
Covered with satire, but I am so close to me
And not vaccinated by the next pedo-type from the sign.

Something brings me up, drank, faded.
The soil under the feet is felt a little loose.
I take out my mobile, leafing down the contacts,
It would be necessary to appoint tea in the cinema.

The evening is busy, with motivation order.
It does not hurt to shake the stubble, get dressed in rejoice,
On the clock is half the fifth, in the reserve there are a lot of time.
I put on a repeat already playing "Monday."

Another circle, hard workers in offices,
Local courtyards are already thinking of equally
Two 0.5 vodka, for a snack 2.0 juice,
After they will go home to the slaughter if they can.

Coughing, grimacing, from smoke of cigarettes,
I somehow imperceptibly return to the first point.
The people are bumpy, hello everyone, I'm by,
An hour is in the apartment, and it's time to go out.

From two to four, the sound is now in the speakers,
From the vibration of the bass, the mirrors are pumped to the beat.
I am executed, I consider Variki,
How to take us after viewing in the field.

Everything is almost normal, but somehow very strange
Maybe I'm fixated on that one lady
It is so unrealistic that others are not
Insert?
Although, without a mase, cling to what prevents me from.

I will drive away thoughts about the ranging,
So shook that he again forgot to turn off somewhere.
Circle in the park, cinema, tea, night city,
And I was almost finally disappeared from the region.

Everywhere at home, I am by nature - a wanderer.
I am very pleased with the changes in space.
Dali is attracted, more than all the "comfort",
And I would freely move from the car to the yurt.

Civilization in touch, New Staff from NAS,
"Roses" for a repetition thoroughly and immediately.
It lights out outside the window, I can ride a buzz
On fresh asphalt and brand new interchanges.

Call in a quiet casket, there is coffee,
Continue to reflect everything, as in tweet into these lines.
I, nigga, - a midnight, with red eyes
From the distance of the hours of twenty between dreams.

The same is still the same, well, maybe a little tougher.
With global dreams on barely hard soil,
A certain goal that he believed in
Because of which I was able to keep my intention for the first time.

With the illusion of unity, and horror to be one,
With the lack of motives of any funny species.
It's a pity, I am not at King, and I will not see the prize,
But I will see as a diary all this chatter.