Текст песни алина витухновская - Культ Железной Самки

Girls with bombs instead of abortion children.
Boys making meanings from the myths of the leaders.
And terrorists, detonators of hellish machines.
And the anarchists, frozen in the ashes of anasha.

In black shirts, dangerous evil youths.
Doppelgangers of the Sheep-Man in black glasses.
Death remixes, security officers of SS dreams
Xami swastikas will level the foundations.

Impudent sluts in the bed of indistinct men
The sweaty meat of their backs is stroked with a knife.
And they pierce. And they steal crumpled money.
And the police will never find them.

Mickey and Melori from natural born love
(Roam the city) with blood on their hands
And painstakingly shoot alarmed bitches
And comprehend violence with rifles of hands.

The hammer or sickle will knock on the skull.
Albanian Serbs go off in the night to kill.
The sickle squinted at the transparent and vicious moon.
The world was interrogated for some kind of war.

Smart bombs will fly like death butterflies.
The tin soldier will burn out in the eternal fire.
Foolish whores will surrender to captivating captivity.
The homeland will sit down and never rise from its knees.

Fear will no longer burn with scarlet fever.
Dead people will leave on night trains.
Infernal Herbarium Red will decompose the Executioner.
Moan, you unfortunate creatures, Tanya, cry!

Passion Gagarin in space rushes porn site.
And metaphysical hell is comprehended.
Tormenting meanings, soldiers of the Astral War
screeching swastikas are driven into the jaws of silence.

Colt's grin is blatant and caressingly simple.
Only the execution is absolute and pleases the brain.
Only another War replaces the war.
Death is the country. I don’t know another country.

Just walk past deaths
Girls with bombs instead of abortion children.
Hitlers with tigers on personal leashes.
The boys in black are in a hurry to be deceived by the leaders.

Boys girls get fooled too
With a lazy heart, a pubis and a painted mouth,
A terrible womb, alarming, like a kolobok's coffin,
A painted Easter bomb, slightly cheeky.

The girls with the bombs will give the world an abortion.
Aero porn hurts the airport.
The girls with the bombs go through control quickly.
Girls with bombs drink expensive alcohol.

A dumbfounded forehead will hang with a scalp.
The severed god will screech with his fingers.
Whiskey dripping, killing sweat dripping.
And terrorists blow up a funny plane.

The pause hangs. Color cinema goes out.
For a dead tourist to look out the window for a long time,
Fall into the mirror of death with a cold pupil.
Dead children, like clouds floating overboard.

Zoya the fascist, hellish Fanny Kaplan,
Jeanne Holes, slipped into the witch's trap.
Lolita bullets and Manon minefield
How many killed in space, your dear?

You are a screenwriter, a sadist, a peasant of celebrations.
Convict assault of murder, but the gesture is sustained.
Mission meaning is unlikely to be learned later.
Death, like a tourist, speaks in a foreign language.

The bitch actress no longer knocks her heels.
Death, like a tourist, speaks in a foreign language.
Revenge is her attack, her terrorism is like a whim.
The bomb under the dress is a devilish Hitler surprise.

The goal of all revolutions will come true.
Laughter of a revolver. Evil dead caramel.
People will wake up, and the streets will open mouth,
The passion of the wild holiday will last.

Sleep while the rooster pecks.
Atomic chicken eggs will explode the darkness.
Death chicken. Ragged sun dummy.
A dead child, he complements the landscape.

Sleep, peoples, into a drunken treacherous dream.
Vague threats of reality will come later.
The crab slow fear torments the womb.
Girls carry bombs in round bellies.