Lyrics гэ вэ ft. вэ гэ - косы

braids

ge ve:
snack bit,
the threads of life weaving into ko's for me.
I would give out to myself,
if you could show me the ways:
hand would be a stranger
hid in my head b thought.
put a word to me
so that forever and ever
don't grind your bones for nothing
would not look empty eyed
to be with the bull's sternum
bloodied.
become
anyone.
Today.
here.
just to not be erased in the palms,
would not stay on the bridge
that burn with me in the end.

spread like a meadow in summer
and take the air in your skin.
if someone was looking for a needle
at my beaten feet:
there are thorn bushes of the ridge,
from the fir branches of the footpath,
tar in my old ponds.

help me not to die,
do not leave the wheels in the legs,
would not leave an echo - a voice.
do not drop vertebrae in the bag
finding someone's drill bits in them
nuts
teeth,
spitting and laughing.
do not tangle it in me.

ve ge:
black braids, black braids, black braids, black braids
white braids, white braids, white braids, white braids

day one

red laugh outside the window
thirty to forty hours a day
empty surgical table
no, it's a dream. you open your eyes - in front of the wheel

divides into ribosomes
million hundreds
I am sprayed into the air
and soon i will be recreated from the flesh

day two -
perturbation of the season
would be in winter
where trees are so amorphous
no content or form

a cloud like a falkland
so hurry to cover the military theater
there are our prints everywhere
Pavels Korchagin are there

brocade covers the steppe sky
and somehow immediately warm so
as if for days, years, centuries
ahead of my own pace

I sit submissively in the chair -
two wheels add submission
I would give you the same ways
but from the palm of your hand I pour earth in a handful

day three
became - cry
even during amputation it didn't hurt so much
bad trip
Sweet Dreams
morphine and patience but how much and how much

day four -
some wormy
wake and sorokoust
then this tearful & quot; let & quot;
then emptiness
and the dead tissue is cut with a scalpel - sewn up
Well, finally the screen opened
nothing behind her
and only a slave walks away
let's let him go

one of the paths
as if the braids are leading out of your head -
this is my way home
I learned, remembered, got used

against armor plates
and galloping indexes of happiness
this character is attached to me,
but today I came to say goodbye

under this Indian motive
under this biblical tooth gnash
I stayed locked up
and on the projector Begin meadow is coming

fifth day, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth