Lyrics АтЪ - Отходняки

Something is wrong this morning
Whitish dawn
Kroshevoy birch in porridge stuck together years
Poverty and wet tobacco
And it seems doomed
Word embedded in hearts
As if he reopened the window this morning.
Glorious guy from Cherepovets

Something with this world is not right
Alchen and cruel his god
Scattered by the scourge, crying buffoon
Yes burning in the night tent
And all this is a cinema
The director washed in blood
Now we go out of the window for love -
Will there be a place of love?

From time to time
Dust, tribute - to sum
Screams of conquered creatures
On the crosses of winter
Under rock and roll
Pus in the wound - the mud of the Moscow River
Over dumb lips
Worms crawling in circles ...
Threepenny buzz passed
Started otkhodnyaki

Something with this body is trouble
Close to him and sickening soul
Useless day in lichen and scab
Howling memory
Yes wear year
And as far as possible into the hole
Do not breathe, do not hear your laughter
Not fat
Lied mummers at the feast
Yes, just to not die at all

From time to time
I’ve scolded you
Wheel down winter
Gnaws a weak share
Rock'n'roll
Blood on the tissue
Painted shards
Field jesters without repentance
In the ghouls
Threepenny buzz gone
Now - waste products

From time to time
Salt wire prisons
Pain sentenced to live on the brink
Knows
Fucking rock and roll
Oli, Ani
Gouimple cornflowers ...
Blue eyes
Yes they tears - slugs
There was a cheap buzz
Yes, everyone will take otkhodnyaki

All that we have will take
Waste

All that we have now -
Waste

All we have left here ...