Of the planned victim an spreaded beak,
The spent efforts from an anger week.
Turn on cold corner for buy the Sun -
You'l be addict, I'l depend on medicines.
Eructed doubts, having rolled up sleeve,
Too hardly soldier among violent weeds,
If he is able to see — I would be blind.
And if I is dead — he would be alive.
So search my body with knotty hand.
Conclude me in the parapersonal end.
I not be confused of change of seat.
The traitor won't give out — the pig won't eat.
Sore point would be iron tempered.
On open wound place the earth cruded.
From a native bed to a final round.
From Croesus good fortunes to underground.
Of the planned harvest an open sight.
Lost dreams overdue oppression.
Turn on cold corner for buy the Sun.
You'l be addict, I'l depend on medicines.
Turn on cold corner for buy the Sun.
You'l be addict, I'l depend on medicines.
Система - Егор Летов
© Copyright: Владимир Останин, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111121503261
Свидетельство о публикации №111121503261
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