Текст песни Мама-яма - Далай-лама

A c#m f#m e
A c#m d dm

One hundred twenty -first winter day
I poured me tea, gave the cook
Among the life of Kuterma
Wise is only a loafer

Do what you want
Dance, draw and sing
Only loneliness
Yours are always with you

Look out the window - fucking
The sun shines arrogantly
For his aplomb this Apollo
Still answer

I will put on black glasses like in the Himalayas
climbers like Dalai Lama
I will be clean and shoulder

Prese and speech,
I will not eat food
I will be easier, I will be cleaner
I will be skinny, I will be a beggar

I will wake up the Buddha
And, putting on the rackets,
We will go on ashes
Both are again from the body

Let's go preach
Simple Luda
How to love everyone, do not fight
And other bastard

And the salvation has come
those who were in the spiritual coma
I am doing a wash
In an inflatable pool
on the balcony

And somewhat rumpled
I drink a tea with mint
Everything becomes clear
Life is empty and immense

Life of Gusta
And so simple
Strigs from the bush
While the soul is pure
Como
ME GUST
A la Fest
A la Pieta