Текст песни Sculptor - The Grief is Dumb

All he explain you to yourself,
After all, it's on your hand.
Silently go and do not shine,
Feelings Somni, incinerate them.
The sun and rain, cold and shivering
Turn away from people: substitute them under the knife!
Their words lie and think them stupid,
But the blood of one - gepatitova ...
"How to dig ditches and rivers?
So it is impossible to survive - hurt.
Plague between your hands crawling, bitch.
But nobody Bole not bring me malice "
Sadness is mute!
He played in one - do not fit into sotsioblef.
Five weeks in prison - five relics mouth
He spat in the flat vengeance on their street floor.
Sadness is mute! He blows off her anger.
Five Fingers - he draws eternal dawn again.
Sadness is mute! This bulwark for hateful.
All empty his coffin in the dock ...
Sadness is mute!
The line is thin ...
Sadness is mute,
And the last word sorry.
And their cries let the wind crumbles
Mother existential!
Shawl between him and the worlds covered
A patient silhouette crawling under the lights.
Grail, the one of the last.
"The last of the last, the last of the first."
Mumble, he said palm gently says, "to live"
And dying ... "gradually. In the eyes of the pale soulless. "
"... Ego of inclement weather.
I made of the curses
Freedom of Mercy
Cut all in vain.
On Uprising Square
One without pretensions,
As anger without multiple goals -
Hate clean.
Fistful of destruction
From internal beliefs. "