People are the source of problems Beginnin' of writin' the 26th of May The end of the writin' of the 27th of May
(18+)
These battles last 'til blood, Everyone has a bad mood, There's garbage in every river, From all this shit hurts everyone's liver, Most products Ain't made naturally, All these waters are dirty! All these abandoned buildings Are thirty years old, All these facts doin' pain in soul, Units of the brave are Tryin' to solve these problems, But most are simply silent, And in no way tryna achieve more, Nobody stores anything stored, How many lungs are inflamed, Due to fucking air out Of the smoke? Haah... All this shit's nauseous, No one's watching our health, No one will save us, Except us, Everyone lives in deception, That everythin' is fine, But what we eat chemicals, We live in lies, Hah... Everybody burns in fire, And who's a liar here? Only people! How many more pretend to everyone, That everything in the world's normal? Everywhere - the flow of hate, How long will this shit last? 'Til everything disappears in the dust? This shit will come quickly! In the meantime, Everything collapses, slowly but surely! HATE, I will never forget, uh These bullyin' pets... Fuck 'em... This spoiled air... There's only smoke! Hope is broken in The soul of everyone, I also have a slight doubt That all that was, won't return, Every burn, It hurts not so much, As the realization, that we live in shit, Every beat... I cannot just sit, Ahhh... Gasoline, smoke, Hatred an' blood, Murder an' Prey, I wanna stay alive... But in another LIFE... I HATE, IT ALL SHIT... Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off...
2019-06-24 00:45:26
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Я граю лише уві снах, Гітару, мов тебе, обіймаю, І пісня стара на вустах, Що в серці болем лунає. Я граю лише уві снах, Мелодію, давно що забута, І печаль в блакитних очах — Мій жах і муза, мій смуток. Я граю лише для тебе, Хоч знаю, що плід ти уяви, І біль губить нестерпний — Я гину, а пісня лунає... Я граю мелодію ніжну Та бігти хочеться геть, Як чую солодку я пісню: Вона нагадає про смерть... Бо вона серце зворушить І змусить згадати тебе, Ну нащо грати я мушу І палати мертвим вогнем? Поховавши, я присяглася, Що забута гітара — ось так, Бо пісня для тебе лилася... Я граю лише уві снах...
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