My pain, my share
Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
Festival without drying up the flock
Sundresses to the edges of paradise
Prowling in search of the essence
With loved ones on the same path
They're tearing up the nets, there's no fear
Rubik's cube is cutting, tear off your shirt
Yah! They gasp, gloat and cry before I cry
They are building salty intrigues,
My eyes were callused with tears.
Calm down! Don't pull the threads
You'll break the wrong wick
Flags and torches on high
On the flank there are angels insolent with naked truth
They give freedom to those who turn their faces on the contrary
With an angry bark, retreating to the edge
Our roofs that have become higher
Closer to the birds! Give me a seat
Yes, we sinned. And far from red
Passengers with greased skis
Pompous, raised on the roads
Yes, and wrinkles are burned into the faces
We set it on fire and didn’t put it out
In the foam in the soap in the field in the dust
We fumbled from the peaks to the shallows
We swaggered as hard as we could
And the calm did not leave the insomnia.
Meeting face to face
Large portions, sun-fried
Without feeling the soil, without seeing the shores
Whose path is shorter - they believed without words
We need to have time, not rush
It is too late to gild metal if it has oxidized
Who worries without risk
And who smiles menacingly at his temple...
My pain, my share
Whose guns are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished.
Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes. My pain, my share
Colts whose aim in the head?
Holili wrong, or cherished.
Then delineate chalk obuyut in white.
Festival zasyhaya not pack
Sundresses in the edge of paradise
Ryskaya in the search for the essence
With close on the same path
Tearing network no fear
Rubik's Cube cuts, tear off his shirt
Yah! On gasp, and wept before nahavayut plahayu
Build salted intrigues
Zamozolili eyes with tears.
Calm down! Don't pull the thread
Not the wick will tear
On edge flags, torches
Angels on the wing in a brazen with the naked truth
Give freedom, those who are against the gate Morden
With barking angry retreating to the edge
Our roofs that were higher
To the birds closer! same plant
Yes, sin. And not red
Passengers with lubricated skis
Napyzhennye on the roads grew
Yes and wrinkles burned rozhah
Podsozhgli we are not extinguished
In a foam soap box dust
Rummaged from the tops of the rocks and to
Strutted that there are forces
And insomnia did not leave calm.
Meeting face-to-face
Large portions of fried sun
Not feeling the soil, not seeing the coast
Whose path is shorter - believed without words
We must keep pace and not rush
Late gold metal, if it is oxidized
Who cares without risk
And who is the threat to his temple smiling ...
My pain, my share
Colts whose aim in the head?
Holili wrong, or cherished.
Then delineate chalk obuyut in white.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
Festivals never dry up in flocks, sundresses to the edges of paradise,
Searching for the essence, with loved ones on the same path.
They are tearing the nets, there is no fear. He's cutting a Rubik's cube, tear off his shirt.
Yah! They gasp, gloat and cry in front of the scaffold.
They are plotting salty intrigues, their eyes are callused with tears.
Calm down! Don't pull the threads! You will break the wrong wicks.
Flags and torches are on high. On the flank are angels, insolently, with naked truth
They give freedom to those who turn their faces on the contrary.
Barking, angry, retreating to the edge of our roofs, which have become higher,
Closer to the birds! Give me a seat! Yes, we sinned. And far from red.
Passengers with greased skis, pompous, who grew up on the roads.
And there are wrinkles burned into the faces. We set it on fire and didn’t put it out.
In the foam, in the soap, in the field, in the dust, we rummaged from the tops to the shallows.
We swaggered as much as we could. And the calm did not leave the insomnia.
Meeting face to face. Large portions, sun-fried.
Not feeling the soil, not seeing the shores. Whose path is shorter - they believed without words!
We need to have time, and not rush!
It is too late to gild metal if it has oxidized.
Who worries without risk,
Who worries without risk,
And who smiles menacingly at his temple.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
Sand People - My Pain video
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
Festivals never dry up in flocks, sundresses to the edges of paradise,
Searching for the essence, with loved ones on the same path.
They are tearing the nets, there is no fear. He's cutting a Rubik's cube, tear off his shirt.
Yah! They gasp, gloat and cry in front of the scaffold.
They are plotting salty intrigues, their eyes are callused with tears.
Calm down! Don't pull the threads! You will break the wrong wicks.
Flags and torches are on high. On the flank are angels, insolently, with naked truth
They give freedom to those who turn their faces on the contrary.
Barking, angry, retreating to the edge of our roofs, which have become higher,
Closer to the birds! Give me a seat! Yes, we sinned. And far from red.
Passengers with greased skis, pompous, who grew up on the roads.
And there are wrinkles burned into the faces. We set it on fire and didn’t put it out.
In the foam, in the soap, in the field, in the dust, we rummaged from the tops to the shallows.
We swaggered as much as we could. And the calm did not leave the insomnia.
Meeting face to face. Large portions, sun-fried.
Not feeling the soil, not seeing the shores. Whose path is shorter - they believed without words!
We need to have time, and not rush!
It is too late to gild metal if it has oxidized.
Who worries without risk,
Who worries without risk,
And who smiles menacingly at his temple.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
My pain, my share. Whose Colts are pointed at the head?
The wrong one was cherished or cherished. Then they will outline it with chalk and put them in white shoes.
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