Текст песни МашнинБэнд - Мухи

FLIES

Stains on the walls - all that remained of the flies,
Deaths heavy paper.
Do not buy off the trees
Gold
From ruthless winter.

I ponadelat fatty bouquets
Wipe your hands on your hair, and soon
Snow falls, and will come to the streets
Round fools - snowmen.

The joy of pure bovine heart
Saliva overflows
Cleft palate.
Too late to go back down -
I did not say hello,
Not be good.

City abandoned children and rats,
City founded in unbeaten pawnshop.
Let the last bard will die -
The skull of the moon will be bald.

No, ten lives
The sea roars in the membrane unheard fish.
I do not see chelovechische-blocks,
But enough of sand and gravel.

Hands stained with nails
Stir do cruel love.
Put a bucket to the head
Mortally sad old devil.

From proedennyh money
Metallic taste in the mouth.
I shove myself in the mat
And I hang on the wall by the scruff.

Morning came, rail track
Swept the first, Let mum.
Today is clearly not the month of May,
Today - the day scrubbing the cat.

08/15/1999