Текст песни Vladimir Krakhmal - Паром

Outside the host of people
Living as if without a goal, their dreams are thinning again.
The crowd of sleepy ideas are alien, like the sun to Pompeii
And the dysphoria on the threshold is breaking in the door
In these chambers. Here Eiren is pressed into the gravel of the foundations,
And you, on the verge of stories, sold your soul for a steward.
It’s time to speed up the exit from the rogue parade,
Fate parabola building, take a formal table
It’s necessary, but you’re alone here and in the root
There is no need for a decorative tombstone.
There is no decoration in trivial conditions,
The world is in agony, transmitted by pain.
And here we are drowning in apathy,
We understand the world, as if with color-blind colors
Between the walls we walk from summer to winter
The world will dissolve with steam, because anti-positive rules here.

Your world is empire of slaves
Extra charge of temporary coffins
And I don't believe in anyone
Of you. Settled in cells to the bottom,
There is only valuable junk
And I don’t believe in anyone ...

Outside the window of a crowd of people
What time wasted in the lines - what's the point and the point,
And here you just try to get out of the stream, and the windows
Your comfort zone slams in the face.
Under weight, the aorta bursts overboard
Ecumenists - there are the same concerns and problems.
Through the ranks of the controversial polemics,
Do not get to Iria without losing the essence of the subject.
Rotten souls crackled in the distance
And what remains for us to do here is just sadness to milk.
Tomorrow everything will spin again - the same sad look,
And the same people will fill the wastelands, but whether it is necessary.
After all, we are alone in the houses.
Olympus does not shine for us, only in the distance the lights burn
The nymphs of the saints go out, they will leave silently past the arches
Without leaving a memoir, the world will dissolve with steam.