Текст песни nicebeatzprod. - для тонущих и тех, кто уже утонул.

Your nylon scarf smelled me,
I fell in love for it, I gave you us.
Take the result of our meetings, all that has gone to zero.
Softly pulsing vein in this novel by Jules Verne.
Soot from the corner of his mouth, claw at his throat,
Just do not with the children!
We both limp in loops ...
This will not be a reason in the papers tomorrow
Write about flights from windows
So infinitely distant from two rooms.

And until the morning will collect in the corners of the word,
You are my weakness, my anesthetic from his wounds.
I will be alive in a dusty glow of the dying light,
But what I breathe, because the air is gone.

I remain uncollected on the floor puzzles,
Scared of view of the hands,
From long beeps those in the tube.
Draw least until tomorrow something butter
About gray dust off our jackets, about a sea of ​​cigarette butts.
And quietly close the theme of eternity,
About unspent air
About the risk of developing lung cancer ...
Save asking how to get to the very end,
Until the empty stop his soprano quietly.

For drowning and those who have drowned.