Текст песни Мутант Ъхвлам, Слава КПСС - Неприговор

I listen to the microphone's volume.
There are the moans of women I see in porn.
Everyone has a skeleton in their closet.
The absurd jelly of years lived.
Not my type of flex.
I want to want a surge of life, almost childish.
I see you want to heal, but there's no one to heal with.
My pillow smells of your stupid head for another day.
It smells like your groin in the waste, hahaha.
I knew it beforehand, I knew it yesterday, and I'll know it tomorrow.
An evil bee took all your vanilla sugar.
And they don't sing requiems for such people.
They don't sing lullabies for us to sleep well.
Let it snow. Snuff.
A new story doesn't begin with us.
An old story doesn't end with us.
Hazel grouse and pineapple. Quality
You roll your eyes like in a lousy sitcom
Not getting enough milk in your latte
I pick up my lettuce leaf from the pavement
Life is striped
Like a tiger, become picturesquely extinct
Choose hara-kiri or expensive apartments
To walk to your ancestors with just one toe, you kittens
You're afraid. When it thunders
The moment is delayed, quoting Diaghilev under a khaki dress in the underpass, bald but not Ilyich
It only spoils my appetite
This crude kitsch
You call it urban culture
But according to Zadornov, the foundation of everything is Ra
You threw your head back to the sky, uee
Clean up after yourself
You don't know how to dance
It's more common to jump under a train
Your cold bed
Will be warmed by hellfire
But then
You watch the dead yard
While the noodles are cooking
You mumble that it's not a death sentence
Life is good
Tell me who your friend is, I'll tell you why they'll put you in jail
Tell me what they'll put you on
And your girlfriend doesn't like mannequin piss
Vanilla cuckolds drink their coffee with strange milk
And this is us and this is the chalk of fate and the moss has fallen away but the dick remains
I jumped and laughed to the skies
I read rap in the Neskuchny Garden
I don't I want to go back to that building.
Where I tried Cyclomed with Lyokha.
Can't get out of the cycle? No varicose veins.
It blew out the window. This is the wigs' revenge on Bashlachev.
And what kind of faggot are you? Like Jean, somehow
And you became Russian when you drank a bottle of Five Lakes
But didn't go to the shaman's concert in Biysk
Too big a risk
Wanted to see in practice what your spirit is made of
But she had many like her, and you'll be the two hundredth
Whoever needs to understand, understood
Kommunarka will remember us
Sneeze and I'm a Russian chief
Captured my last moment in a gif
Sausages in bread, dancing like girls
Let me compose a poem for myself with the clang of a chisel,
And that's why we're alive, a pool of liquid agents,
Don't overexpose me, baby,
That life dripped on my clothes,
Caustic, more Samoyed than Italian greyhound,
Freedom never seen,
Phantom pains in the sleeve of my sweater
Sometimes comfortable, sometimes itchy,
Forests and needles, no gas in the burners,
Noticeable in the craniums,
return Back to the unicorns,
Angrily moves the eyeball across the bridge of the nose,
and as if it had swum across the English Channel - skin tone
Turn on and spin, no need for a slider,
At these frequencies, mutants crush garlic
Vyacheslav climbed from the bucket into your pancakes,
The secret is shrouded in darkness,
A big-faced stepmother, two suitcases,
Santa will put the presents in the closet,
Hello, whispers and crackles, it was already the third Thursday in the city,
Old Believer by appearance, stopped all attempts to get through
Windows Vista - pressed every button
You can't dance
More accustomed to jumping under a train
Your cold bed
Will be warmed by hellfire
But then
You watch the dead yard
While the noodles are cooking
You mumble that it's not a death sentence
Life is good