Текст песни the Doorbell - Связанные кровью

On a piece of paper a smooth movement of the wrist
The writer or someone like him
Casually spit out all that has accumulated.
The interested reader will pick up later.

In the recesses of Twitter and Instagramov
Hundreds of thousands of innocent and narrow-minded snobs
To get lost at least one abnormal,
And live, alas, the remaining days at home.

On the lost villages LiveJournal
A faded mind shedding tears;
The reader who turn over their own memory,
He does not understand why the mind is no longer laughing.

In the vastness of blue and white pages contact
Fingers doomed clicked with the mouse;
From person to person, from the address in the address.
Doomed have not seen or heard.

Souls are lost in a maze of words
Printed sometime, by someone;
They do not carry far behind,
After all, they seem locked in a cage;
And their fate tied tightly
With the fate of those who
He left his mark on all forgotten
Pages of the memories, tears and tantrums.