Текст песни скептический - sagem

Stopping the alarm clutch deeper in formal
And I already do not have enough strength to swim upstairs
My friends are just ink spots, but they are true
Unlike those who betrayed me and forgot me ...
I count the stars, I have already reached a million
And as a reward to me your kiss in the coolness of dusty rooms
More alcohol is needed so that all living things burned inside
You need more wounds, so you need more salt ...
Oliver Sax will no longer save from ailments
Pain in the head as if piles are driven inside it
I am intangible, forever pale, something like a junk
Something like a punk, whore hello to your "seventies"
On the screen among the rowan my vyoming under the speed
In the bedroom under phenosepam, it just slowly burns out
Serenely listening to the hysteria of the diamonda
Burning nerves, breaking plans like cookies ...

Trams are taking me to infinity again
Where every day brings injuries
Where everyone has long been tired of a boring look
The loop on the ceiling decided to make a pantomime
Hands like hard rags, I just bit the cold
In the city of Eternal Holodomor
There is no faith in the future, all the same, Oldie was right
I wake up again in the underworld