Текст песни Ливень - Классический депресняк на исходе лета

Inhaling smoke and dust , lead the conversation with God
In the language of the epics , the language of the deep
In the language of courts , the language of the prospectus
But, but great slang cities
Not cut into the soul master.

Breathe blue smoke and think about death ( the flesh )
The folly of love and sweetness varies
I am a new Don Quixote . I'm an angel in the whirlwind ( on the decline )
I am wondering on the blood veins of the lustful .

No groan , no poetry , no dreams , no inspiration
All the same outside sad place
I assemblage of sins and pristine laziness
And late to start from scratch

Classic depresnyak in late summer
Sky lights in ridiculous wound dream ... dream ... dream ...
Years - on the mountain . Wolf howl time to
With the sun in unison sataneet moan
Classic depresnyak at the end of the summer ...