Lyrics иногда мне кажется - что здесь уже ничего не будет

Sometimes it seems to me that there will be nothing here, it will not grow, it will not happen, new people will not appear; that we must cover the city with a huge blanket, that everyone would finally fall asleep and start from the beginning. Where everything goes, one big mistake. The city is like a cow, with which cream is removed. Three and a half people, devoid of any color, drown in one swamp, tell tales to each other. And nothing works, does not live, does not breathe. Everyone looks at their feet, no one hears anybody, no one says anything. The mouth is filled with money. The streets swell with ugly houses. This is not a protest song, it just goes out on its own. When the edges fill, the flood begins. It is impossible to contain so much shit and not become a part of it. Sights lost, I do not know where the happiness is anymore. And there is nothing to lean on, the ground is running out from under your feet. I became a part of the world from which I am turned. In my head porridge, under the feet of the swamp. I'm fooling myself, I'm keeping an idiot. I'm all right, I have enough work and money. What is not yet, the consequence is only natural laziness. But sometimes I'm scared thinking about what's next. Even now, I can smell a fake in my voice. I want to stand still, stand up, look around, see what's left there, somewhere, hidden in the heart. To dial there for a couple of good songs. Without it
just not interested. There will be a voice. Sounds will be born. Will fly into space, directly in your hands.