Toil, toil
Life does not work.
Though with wine on people,
At least one together.
Toil, toil
Sins, then repents,
And all is not recognized
What is it all about him.
Fluttering, fluttering, then sinning, then repenting
Either dust on the field, or a father’s house
Fluttering, fluttering, then falling asleep, then barking
And everyone does not admit that the whole thing is in him
It’s like you’re building, but everything is flying apart
It’s like you’re saying that it’s not about that
If you do not drink it does not work
And if you drink, you will howl like a wolf
For no reason at all
Fluttering, fluttering, then falling asleep, then barking
Though with wine on people, at least one together
It seems, it seems God knows where it hangs around
And everyone does not admit that the whole thing is in him
Maybe my head is not inserted there
Maybe he lied too much and can’t carry the load
I would breathe and my chest is squeezed
I would go out but it’s worse there than here
Fluttering, fluttering, the path is narrowing
Though with wine on people, at least one together
Flutter, flutter, look, about to break
To admit to him that it is only in him
In a white purse yes copper money
In the golden font darkness and prison
The sky on the chain and the links in it are torn
How do you go to repair - you will understand everything yourself
Aquarium - Toil
