нина потехина - Сорока - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

A cosmic man with an orgasmic woman In a field - in a pole they jerked ecstatically, Creating ulcerative, pagan music,

Music of love as the supreme deity.

As much as a black little thing, like the tit of a black woman, has been crushed by the dominance of white nature.

And only the magpie flies at the call of the dirty eye

By air current Shameful and embarrassing

In the chamber, beak, hold

Meat, horseshoes and a gloomy face, Your gloomy face.

What do women mean to me, just bumps on the way to the sacred grove? I want something sweeter and tougher - to live on buckwheat and water,

And they wooed me to you like a fly on a radiator,

My wedding shines with lard on my beard.

The angular woman is not married to anyone, her property is a crack in her body and in her mind.

And only the magpie flies at the call of the dirty eye

By air current Shameful and embarrassing

In the chamber, beak, hold

Meat, horseshoes and a gloomy face, Your gloomy face.

My cost is not a ruble or a dick,

Like a collection of poems, I am solid, but empty. It’s just that, as if it never happened, I pecked at myself My feminine side, and didn’t take another.

And just a magpie flies

At the call of the dirty eye

The couch potato flies away

From the world and from vice

The magpie prophet is a lonely peasant looking not for repentance, but for a coffin just right,

But he still doesn’t fit.