Текст песни перерывпятьминут - жпс

You are mine, but I am not yours.
In the shells of strangers we are our own to ourselves.
A stranger among strangers, a stranger among his own.
In the middle of the night, a cry, a crazy psycho.
This is not the first time I am surprised at what I saw, the seams ripped up disgusting mussels, light sprinkled out of them and 'Faust' (?) Dancing on the bones of children.
I'm tired of you, but I'm attracted to you.
Until morning I sit next to you and stroke your hands with cigarettes between your nasty fingers.
This is Kinder Surprise.
He will point the way, here is your Kinder Surprise.
He is the poetry of the syllable, this Kinder Surprise gum is flowing, pleasant.
It is not possible to forget soon and 12 hours turn into grief.
Delhi Kinder Surprise with me in captivity.
Behind me is Sunday, my birthday, a bottle of champagne for a hundred dollars.
A hare and someone in the garbage.
The pain is unbearable.
Lightness of Being.
And I kiss this woman light.
Potential soap in a concentration camp called Russia.
Marina and Lyuba, why aren't you in the club?
Grandfather stuck in the flowerbed.
Here's the rubber bullshit to replace rubber whores.
The fun is to cut a piece of carbonate and push it into your mouth choking on a casserole as in childhood.
Not once again, do not put in a word about old people.
It’s also a sin.
Sit down, of course, here is my place.
And the dove of the soul shit everywhere.
To the place where the reapers of regret would sit.
The same apostle, hieroglyphs, encryption and Morse code.
Plus you're not mine.
Plus you're not mine.
You are not mine.
The memory is broken.
Plot?
He is not there.
And a bus rides with people from coins into the distance.
No graveyard visible.
Fiercely accepted.
The bus is ringing, say hello to me.
There is a maple dwelling in the wind screaming.
I will dry to the window and throw in a ditch.
The locks of the lady were slightly dull.
Wheat-colored decaying dawn.
The road conveyor rushes through time.
Forgotten for years waiting for the Veda, a secret.
The bus instantly grows fat, losing weight.
Letting liars in, letting me out
The whole world is a transport of empty seats draining with ballast of the boards of 'stacking' (?).
And I was expecting my blue homeland to drink me and eat me under the blue.
I know that this ballast is unknown.
I know that there are no empty spaces.
I know you have to pay the fare.
I know that there are no empty places.
There are no empty spaces.