Текст песни kommunikaция - проводник

I am the conductor.
Explorer - himself nowhere.
Electric current sparkles in a magnetic field.
I am, then you need to give - was trying to sell.
I am a machine suffering. Manufacturer pain.
Osemyanitel overnight whose womb tetrad sheet,
whose children are a reflection of reflection - to fall to the hundredth part.
I had sent three letters screaming "Apologize!"
shout "Change!", asks us about happiness.
My God of the gluon. My God is one of love.
My God - it's death after the first kiss.
My God - to continue to yourself poems or children.
My God - it's a train hurtling out of July.
And fuck? That you, my God?
This beehive bites bees,
where are you about anything and even within - stooping.
Your sarcasm is somewhere to the left and rear.
I spat over his shoulder
and saliva mingled with rain
in the quiet melancholy of autumn streets.
I tried a simple, fun - like a clown and a buffoon,
so that sometimes more than one, to some its part.
Only a whisper before bedtime, I asked about that later
and vodka each night and day would prefer cheap tea.
I really better to be silent: a cheerful, sad - all.
I'm just the conductor. Conductor complexes randomness.
I'm not well-formed. This is the world of actions, things,
I run along the border of the senses, waking up from a coma words.
I soon otpizdyat postrokkery for
pizzhyu that their music.
Gather a crowd and Russian melancholy
Score Finally feet.
So far, since the path of goodness and truth - the most difficult
and the narrowest.
A final blow will cause Max Korzh,
for the fact that I live not in a rush.
Help me. I am in this chamber, captured and fixated.
There's no time, thanks to Albert - there are cosmic bodies.
And the matter will be run after them,
like a tiger in a Soviet circus.
And fuck you, if you think, if I write
because she did not give.
The problem is that I find it hard to take,
if I see a distorting mirror.
The problem is that I think and feel too much.
The problem is that I do not care
bees who returned to win in tverk
and that the mantis never sought in actions - God.
But who am I to judge? Why do I merge again
a negative, a little depressed, and recording at night.
And then, just depressed - call it like Valley
in vakkumme headset that conducts charge sadness.
In the five-dimensional space, and thousands of lives -
I will "catch McConaughey"
asking "what is there at the Ukrainians?"
and try to knock back,
where a sunbeam will lie
icon at the bottom of the net.
Where it is not driven out of Paradise, for what this asshole.

I then I could sell - free of charge gave.
I drank and smoked, for ten years I hope to quit.
I will write poems to his last dawn
and believe that the pain is to put in a backpack
forget one day fall.
I really want that everyone -
I was happy in the bus of the day.
And the more that I believe that everyone should be happy.
Let no longer hurt someone because of me.
I hit the mirror again, shouting to him to "protect".

I know that this is easy. I know it's silly.
I remember how much, after sobering up,
I want to change the nickname.
Unwanted children of the night. Night will take home from the club -
show a happy dawn, believing that we are not alone.

I spend days randomly. I just bespereboynik.
When I love, and I believe it does not hurt by lightning in them -
Neural connections in my head, that called "love"
not knowing that I just - another conductor.