Lyrics РисБо - То, что не убьет меня
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То, что не убьет меня, покоцает неслабо.
Жизнь не спуск с горы, не слалом.
И там на финише явно не слава.
Но вот, любовь, что голову снесла вам -
Самый раскрученный из брендов.
Скажешь: ну, что же! Как же ты!
Но скоро чувства не будут трендом,
Период полураспада дуэта-фендома
Закончится, и ты уткнешься в гаджеты.
Я видимо целый век спал,
Если вы полжизни не прожив,
Нарекли советчика "человек-спам".
Но глухонемой бедняг, что сутками не спал
Поболее всех вас красноречив.
Его встречаю я по будням,
Протягиваю горсть монет.
И его жизнь и есть кошмар тот беспробудный.
Глаз мрамор уже не бел, скорее мутный,
Мокрый от слез в каждый момент.
Жизнь сыграет борзую,
Сделает все, чтобы оставить тебя за кадром.
Чтобы облака цвета сладкой глазури
И небо, вымоченное лазурью,
В миг стали последним закатом.
Зря глубоко полез в нее.
Нервы заставят бегать по стене.
Удерживая равновесие ходишь по лезвию,
В ступнях твоих порез гниет.
Это ее признаки злости? Нет.
Она улыбка Джокера - смешно-больная.
И так же нервно шутит.
Взор ее - пуля шальная,
Что пробивает сердца шаль, но я
Продолжаю играть в этот шутер.
Сколько там осталось хилсов?
Не важно. Не действуют читы.
И сколько б ты не выбил псов,
Сияй, как желтые глаза сов.
"Жизнь не убьет меня!" - кричи погромче ты.
Тут не ящик пандоры, а целый сундук!
Я сидя на на нем, буду ждать весну.
Там записка: "Прекрати сумбур.
Можно дать бой жизни, изменить судьбу,
Она не убьет, почуяв твоих глаз желтизну."
That which does not kill me does not weaken.
Life is not a descent from the mountain, not a slalom.
And there is clearly no glory at the finish.
But here, the love that brought you head -
The most promoted of brands.
You say: well, so what! How are you
But soon feelings will not be a trend,
Half-life of a duo-fandom
It's over, and you'll be buried in gadgets.
I probably slept a century,
If you have not lived half your life,
He called the advisor "man-spam."
But the deaf-and-dumb poor fellow, who had not slept for days
More than all of you eloquent.
I meet him on weekdays
I draw a handful of coins.
And his life is that nightless nightmare.
The eye of the marble is no longer white, rather muddy,
Wet from tears at every moment.
Life will play a greyhound
Will do everything to leave you behind the scenes.
To clouds of sweet glaze color
And the sky, soaked with azure,
In an instant they were the last sunset.
In vain deeply got into it.
Nerves make running on the wall.
Holding the balance walk on the blade
In your feet cut cut.
Are these her signs of anger? Not.
She smile Joker - ridiculously-sick.
And just nervously joking.
Her gaze is a stray bullet,
What pierces the heart shawl, but I
I continue to play this shooter.
How many Hills are left there?
No matter. Cheats do not work.
And how much would you have knocked out the dogs,
Shine like the yellow eyes of owls.
"Life will not kill me!" - shout louder you.
This is not a Pandora's box, but a whole chest!
I'm sitting on it, I will wait for spring.
There is a note: "Stop the confusion.
You can give a fight to life, change the fate,
She won't kill by smelling your eyes yellow. "
Life is not a descent from the mountain, not a slalom.
And there is clearly no glory at the finish.
But here, the love that brought you head -
The most promoted of brands.
You say: well, so what! How are you
But soon feelings will not be a trend,
Half-life of a duo-fandom
It's over, and you'll be buried in gadgets.
I probably slept a century,
If you have not lived half your life,
He called the advisor "man-spam."
But the deaf-and-dumb poor fellow, who had not slept for days
More than all of you eloquent.
I meet him on weekdays
I draw a handful of coins.
And his life is that nightless nightmare.
The eye of the marble is no longer white, rather muddy,
Wet from tears at every moment.
Life will play a greyhound
Will do everything to leave you behind the scenes.
To clouds of sweet glaze color
And the sky, soaked with azure,
In an instant they were the last sunset.
In vain deeply got into it.
Nerves make running on the wall.
Holding the balance walk on the blade
In your feet cut cut.
Are these her signs of anger? Not.
She smile Joker - ridiculously-sick.
And just nervously joking.
Her gaze is a stray bullet,
What pierces the heart shawl, but I
I continue to play this shooter.
How many Hills are left there?
No matter. Cheats do not work.
And how much would you have knocked out the dogs,
Shine like the yellow eyes of owls.
"Life will not kill me!" - shout louder you.
This is not a Pandora's box, but a whole chest!
I'm sitting on it, I will wait for spring.
There is a note: "Stop the confusion.
You can give a fight to life, change the fate,
She won't kill by smelling your eyes yellow. "