Текст песни Sonrisa - Кто-то заперт в своем портрете

Someone locked in his portrait,
Like Wilde's Dorian Gray.
The other travels around the world
And hunting for people.

Someone horror existent breathing
Because the monsters in his closet;
Someone sea veil stirs
His lies as the spirit.

World crazier fiercely and easier
The repeated childhood us;
He whips the brains every day,
Hysterically to pyanok in the trash.

He breaks into our souls,
Corrupting them, barking, angry,
Time after time, flogs and scents,
And while the eye looks.

We obeyed, like cattle in a slaughterhouse:
What slipped - and then zhrem.
Relocate themselves on the run and the war,
In those roads, scorching fire.

We now do not understand ideas,
But after two decades,
Once on the bunks, in Durkee
Or in the same cafe & quot; & quot ;, Cuvette

We understand that the world is not playing:
It is for us a target armor.
If you say, I'm here vayayu poetry? ..
No. In fact - they are me.

04/08/12
(c) Sonrisa