Зараза - Стёкла
текст песни

People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
People's black glasses are pricked
People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
Pricked, pricked
(What what?)

People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
Pricked, pricked
(What what?)
(Hey hey)

Fingers crumple cheap cardboard
Rivers of rats float abroad
Street whines and asks for a cartridge
This is the kind of game I had to become a player of

Our raft is here - a trough upside down
Straight to the bottom
We are led by a helmsman who is inflated with a bucket
This wind of change, he invigorates like N-BOM

And again my two cents will stand on edge
These are the lines from which you puked substance in the mind
Son I know here will explode without bombs
Life is evil takes us to the breaking point

It's not the season to fly, run after Kent
Worn concrete drinks the tears of icons
The cruel law heartlessly strangles us
In the ocean of evil I can't see dry land

People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
Pricked, pricked
(What what?)

People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
People's black glasses are pricked
(What, what?)
Pricked, pricked
(What what?)
(Hey hey)

Wounds can't be stitched up
On what's left of my torn soul
No longer forget the drama
To stir up correctly or stir up grams
Wounds can't be sewn up
On what's left of my torn soul
Dramas can't be forgotten
To stir up correctly or stir up grams

Wounds can't be sewn up
On what's left of my torn soul
Dramas can't be forgotten
To stir up correctly or stir up grams
Wounds can't be sewn up
On what's left of my torn soul
Dramas can't be forgotten
To stir up grams, grams, grams