Текст песни гомора - Паранойя

These paintings are piled together
With the soul of all cattle also remains imaginary
Yards, emptiness, multiply all notes
Every day wonder: Who are you ?
Friends on the fingers . Over the years, only became less
Dream , perhaps, not very true become thin
Thoughts thrown principles long empty
I would have shot himself - cartridges are single
Fathers gave us life , and putting morality
I plywood that flies but steel
Smarter not become , over the years it seems glupeyut
A thousand thoughts on the notebook , that's what I have
Not for different - it's innate, I'm sick
Three different life later lay down in epic
About three different people , three different fates
Perhaps life is not fair , God will judge on

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