Текст песни dobbro - burner 9spoiled0

I go out to the store, cross the wet street. On the other side of the earth, you dream of waking up with another person.
This is not cosplay, with the speed of light a year passes from several days. Under the wear of a forest of thick bristles, effective frustrations on slippery 28. Poor (noise, subway) spares, it became impossible to hear you words, nor I, as a postman, sewed with hemoglobin, sewed internally. In the kitchen there were only three, in terms of legs, they were going to smoke for a very long time with full tanks of lighters with actions for no particular reason. In the season of obsessions I will only show you, because the rest of the women [as if] the most unpleasant of the universe - have illegible names, hair made of polyethylene. And it would be better if they didn’t talk about green pants and blue skalds about “sick”. I and the lions will agonize together. The men cast from the dough are played as children by the last greasy smell in the corners of the cinema on a heavy lass. Around [gleba] and [niyaznitsa], instead of musicians, several centimeters of dust will appear, and washed away, three tired white slaves come up with scenes for films that should be burned during editing, and I personally make sure that there is no more, no less air, just enough to survive.

Freedom of endless flights of stairs, the sounds of conversations are heard below, everyone is talking about different things and at the same time about one thing. Human ants rush along the capillary lanes to Natasha the Queen of the Hive, compressed chelicera salivate, looking at someone else's woman. You dress yourselves, shoe and admire, and then eat. Do not forget to breathe. I don’t know that I want to burn everything. The whole city in soot, people passing by, people passing by dead. Here was the most severe fire, like a theater that constantly burned out, although this is such a fire in which you scream, ride. It is very funny to burn on an empty stomach, because of the smell of fried meat hungry cramps run through a burning body. I met a friend, found him delightful, invited me to a weekend in Vyborg, Rekursk. In the cod of white noise your walkie-talkie has long been moaning. His body is crushed for seconds in a narrow coffin of the body, from the friction of moments against each other the flames of the world revolution will flare up, the cooks will run out into the street. Stew from enemies - plenty of food for everyone, the inhabitants of the pots will still show.
Hello

Yes you are just small firefighters,
same fat and love bribes,
 and I love the howl of sirens when the plants howl
Thinking everyone would die soon
froze in amber of technogenicity. This is probably my angel, but why is she so fat, has a mustache and golden teeth? I translated to the page and froze between the letters of the graphomaniacs that fell from the roofs.
Hey.
Break up
Hey.
Drown.
Hey.
Confuse the dosage. I really, I do not care.
Hey.