Текст песни Movski - Долгая Прогулка

"Everything is almost normal" - I admire the first line
On a piece of paper, by hand, in a clumsy handwriting.
"Almost", and the point here, you can't say better,
It's like that holiday when everyone is bored.

More than three puffs seem to get warmer
I ought to collect my thoughts, get down to business.
Third day of the week, two of them wasted
At this rate, I either lose weight or give up.

It happens in different ways, it pleases there is a stopper,
I don't know how long he works, but I hope for a long time.
Rustle properly to that mark "finish",
And then if you stick it in, then you already take out the hell.

I should take a walk, refresh my mind,
On the street now, however, it is as fresh as in the sauna.
Doing a test, putting on slippers
I cover my eyes tired from the day with glasses.

All live, Damian plays in your ears,
The mood smoothly changes to the correct one.
Familiar along the way, I nod to them briefly,
There is no reason to communicate, and it suits me.

Everything is gradual, and as it should, in the right direction,
I somehow fell out from everywhere and somehow did not return.
Thought, dragged on, still for the first time
I realized that this, it turns out, only won.

Well, judge for yourself: plus zero stereotypes;
Freedom in your thoughts, even if there are labyrinths
Covered in satyr, but so close to me
And not vaccinated by the next pedo-type from the sign.

Something drifts me, drank, uncovered.
The ground underfoot feels a little loose.
I take out my mobile, scroll down the contacts,
We ought to assign someone tea at the cinema.

The evening is busy, with order in motivation.
It will not hurt to shave off the stubble, dress neatly,
It's half past five on the clock, there's plenty of time left.
I bet on the replay already played "Monday".

Another circle, hard workers in offices,
Local courtyards are already thinking equally
Two 0.5 vodka, 2.0 juice for a snack,
Then they'll go home to the slaughter if they can.

Coughing, grimacing, from the smoke of a cigarette,
I somehow imperceptibly return to the first point.
A bunch of people, hello everyone, I'm passing by,
An hour in the apartment, and it's time to go out.

Two to four, the sound is on the speakers now
From the vibration of the bass, the mirrors swing to the beat.
He picks me up, examines the variki,
How to keep us busy after viewing the field.

Everything is almost normal, but somehow very strange,
Maybe I'm fixated on that one lady
It's so unreal that others don't
insert?
Although, without a smear, cling to what bothers me.

I drive away thoughts of raskumar further,
I was so stuck that I forgot to turn again somewhere.
A circle in the park, cinema, tea, night city,
And I almost completely disappeared from the area.

I feel at home everywhere, I am a wanderer by nature.
I am very pleased with the changes in space.
Dali attracts, more than all "comforts",
And I would freely move from the car to the yurt.

Civilization in touch, new staff from Nas,
"Roses" to repeat thoroughly and immediately.
It’s dawn outside the window, I’m a thrill to ride
On fresh asphalt and brand new junctions.

Drive into a quiet little casket, pour coffee there,
Continue to reflect everything as in the tweet in these lines.
I, nigga, is a night owl with red eyes
From distances of twenty hours between dreams.

Still the same, well, maybe a little tougher.
With global dreams on barely solid ground
A certain purpose that I believed in
Because of which I was first able to keep intent.

With the illusion of unity, and the horror of being one,
With no motives of any kind of funny.
It’s a pity I’m not with King, and I won’t see him with the prize,
But I will see all this chatter as a diary.