Текст песни Диана Коденко - Режу по живому

I cut on the living, where it hurts.
How are you so overlooked?
The sound is snappy ... It's a bell tower
Crying pretending to be a poorhouse.

Do God from anything -
From sand, from bread, from sunset -
I just wouldn’t look from my glass
Truth seeking fees,

Truth seeking flesh
And the soul that faith bleeds.
The sound is sad. Birds on the fly.
Bell tower. Point. Dots ...

I'm cutting for living. Lucky for us!
We are still capable of treason.
Is the bell a bell?
Is a fool a whip of applause?

Outside the window rage stotetie -
Rusty weather interlacing.
Song broken by the whip
For her singing - is deadly.

This is hardly a good reason.
Do you doubt yourself console yourself:
God did not work out of it -
Too colorful clothes,

Too idiotic smile,
Too incomprehensible predict ...
The sound is sad. Pop does not knit bast.
Bell tower. Line. Between the streets ...

Autumn spreads ... Do not sing to us!
The world fell into the palm of an awesome tail.
I cut on the living, where it hurts.
Only pain - less, less, less ...