Behind the curtains snow, my poems on white cells, I do not know the answer, my world is not your ghetto, and the birds are flying my city to the truth, people in sports sweatshirts, melting dead trams. We freeze the legs of the broken destinies, the footsteps, you give me a knife to me to cut the crumbs, people give me evil, I'll take it with me, you will not understand this story, you just became free. The fucking critic of life limited himself a genre, transfer him a song, he rotes from the gills, along the stations, fences and will not understand the fathers of us, I put on a hood, these are not tears, this is damp. Through the Pipes of Paschers, the player of my eye on Play, in my pocket is not money, in my pocket wind, there is a faith in my soul, in my heart there is a rhythm, in my city cool, where people have a choice. I will shoot, but by, ripped clothes on the release, I do not appreciate your new one, not from him I grew up, the element of the streets, the guide brings us to the truth, I thoughts for the crowd of the black hat. Swan Lake, a black swan, bitch, pulls me a thin neck, thought (-Ah) so lonely, burn me in me, I will become, I know, again the same, the fact that you are angry and black gives me hope. I will become a flat dog, I will not throw a bite to people, take off the clothes with blood, just let's smoke, meet the sunset behind the lake and wait for the last bus, forgive and deny all the thoughts about what they crushed. Air walks in the arches, the city heated by the sun, the requiem on a dream sounds in these forgotten races, I'm not alone, I was wrong, staring at the exit, and felt comfortable only in your wire. This is a lyrics and I am not ashamed, putting time, I wear a hood, keeping patience in the soul, it shrinks, white horses in the sky, I wrote it in April for foreign people. Lyrics Number Uno, Earth, not a city, and dust, old and young spectators of the new film, together or apart, I need that noise that this night stack, in this white sheet. Dry autumn air, I know for sure no later, fly away or near my window, an annoying guest, an annoying guest, a scenario of a silent movie.