Lyrics ножевые незабудки - n13
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference ножевые незабудки - n13, and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
В западне у заводов
Утренних фур груженных одноразовым счастьем
В капкане у сигаретного дыма
В зависимости от
Температуры чая
Главное
Перетерпеть до завтра
В это сложное время суток
Когда до рассвета осталось пару часов
Главное не думать о запястьях
О реках полных мутной воды
Главное не думать о высоте
перетерпеть до завтра
У каждого своя жизнь
Кто-то выйдет
А кто-то навечно останется дома
Полюбит диван телевизор
Идеально белый кафель
Вместо религии и правительства
Кто-то выйдет но переломает ноги
И больше не встанет
Он больше не захочет расти
Он будет камнем болотом мёртвым голубем
Покорно лежать и ждать
Пока муравьи не перетянут его на тёмную сторону
Кто-то выйдет и побежит
И не сможет остановиться
Он будет бежать пока не сотрёт сандалии
Пока его икры не порвутся
Пока глаза не высохнут
Он будет бежать с пустыми руками
И там и умрёт
За горизонтом
Его смерть никто не увидит
Мальчишка пнёт ногой
череп на пустыре
Приняв за пустую жестянку.
Кто-то родившись опустит руки и скажет:
- всё бесполезно,
Ваши небеса, ваш ад, ваши автострады
Он наложит на себя руки
И ему плевать на гордость победу героизм
Он не супермен
Японский писатель свивший гнездо из верёвки
Был под потолком
Потом его сняли и закопали
Дети будут играть его костями
Кто-то расскажет тебе про четыре стены
В которых разгуливает болезнь
держа смерть на поводке
Словно огромного бешенного добермана
И слёзы сносят плотины
Когда по ночам доберман этот воет
У меня щемит в груди
Кто-то как мы останется под мостом на ночлег
Пережидая бурю
Чтоб отправиться в путь
Ядовитый свет соседних окон
Хуже чем радиация
Хуже всех воин и бед
И снова мне говорят:
- у каждого своя жизнь
У каждого свой остывший чайник
Дырявые кеды
У каждого свои пробитые шины директор-тиран и рак
Каждый слышит прибой по-своему
Каждый шепчет молитву утреннего пробуждения
И бежит бежит
Бежит
За солнцем
По стеклу
По углям
По головам
По огню
Чтоб спрятаться в тень.
In the Western factories
Morning Four loaded with disposable happiness
In the cabpan of cigarette smoke
Depending on the
Temperature tea
the main thing
Follow up tomorrow
At this difficult time of day
When dawn is left for a couple of hours
The main thing is not to think about wrists
On the rivers of complete turbid water
The main thing is not to think about height
Follow up tomorrow
Everyone has their own life
Someone will come out
And someone will forever stay at home
Love sofa TV
Perfect white tile
Instead of religion and government
Someone will come out but breaks legs
And no longer stand
He will no longer want to grow
It will be a stone marsh dead dove
Poor lying and wait
While the ants do not pull it on the dark side
Someone will come and run
And can not stop
He will run until the sandals will not erase
While his caviar will not break
While the eyes are not dried
He will run with empty hands
And there and die
Over the horizon
No one will see his death
Boy kicks her foot
Skull on the wasteland
Accepting for empty tin.
Someone born will lower his hands and says:
- everything is useless,
Your heavens, your hell, your highways
He puts hands
And he care about the pride victory heroism
He is not superman
Japanese writer whisen nest from rope
Was under the ceiling
Then he was removed and buried
Children will play his bones
Someone will tell you about four walls
In which there is a disease
Holding death on a leash
Like a huge madoberman
And tears demolish dams
When Doberman is in at night
I have a chemistry in my chest
Someone as we will stay under the bridge for the night
Linding Storm
To go on the road
Poisonous light of adjacent windows
Worse than radiation
Worse than all warrior and troubles
And again they tell me:
- Everyone has their own life
Everyone has their own cooled teapot
Leaky sneakers
Each has its own pierced tires-tyrant and cancer
Everyone hears the surf in its own way
Every wake-up prayer whispers
And runs running
Beste
Over the Sun.
On glass
By coal
On heads
By fire
To hide in the shadow.
Morning Four loaded with disposable happiness
In the cabpan of cigarette smoke
Depending on the
Temperature tea
the main thing
Follow up tomorrow
At this difficult time of day
When dawn is left for a couple of hours
The main thing is not to think about wrists
On the rivers of complete turbid water
The main thing is not to think about height
Follow up tomorrow
Everyone has their own life
Someone will come out
And someone will forever stay at home
Love sofa TV
Perfect white tile
Instead of religion and government
Someone will come out but breaks legs
And no longer stand
He will no longer want to grow
It will be a stone marsh dead dove
Poor lying and wait
While the ants do not pull it on the dark side
Someone will come and run
And can not stop
He will run until the sandals will not erase
While his caviar will not break
While the eyes are not dried
He will run with empty hands
And there and die
Over the horizon
No one will see his death
Boy kicks her foot
Skull on the wasteland
Accepting for empty tin.
Someone born will lower his hands and says:
- everything is useless,
Your heavens, your hell, your highways
He puts hands
And he care about the pride victory heroism
He is not superman
Japanese writer whisen nest from rope
Was under the ceiling
Then he was removed and buried
Children will play his bones
Someone will tell you about four walls
In which there is a disease
Holding death on a leash
Like a huge madoberman
And tears demolish dams
When Doberman is in at night
I have a chemistry in my chest
Someone as we will stay under the bridge for the night
Linding Storm
To go on the road
Poisonous light of adjacent windows
Worse than radiation
Worse than all warrior and troubles
And again they tell me:
- Everyone has their own life
Everyone has their own cooled teapot
Leaky sneakers
Each has its own pierced tires-tyrant and cancer
Everyone hears the surf in its own way
Every wake-up prayer whispers
And runs running
Beste
Over the Sun.
On glass
By coal
On heads
By fire
To hide in the shadow.