HELLIANTHUS - Луна - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

And if I write, what should I write about?

An unwashed hunchback ascends to a red bed

And if fairy tales could not be disturbed

Who would have told me that every hero

Is an unintentional liar and fool, who in the agony of nine moons

Performs a ritual - what is the ritual about?

That's what the Grimoire unpacks its repertoire about - you are a shark of a pen?

Or maybe the fool who keeps your numbers is stupid, blind and insensitive?

That's how I am!

Wine is a potion, and a potion is poison, and the master was drunk

Flowed down his lips, and a little - into the glass

But all this is just weeds

But what should I do? (But what should I do?)

When you washed your conscience with bleach, didn't forget white spirit and other crap that advertising tells you to

But life is empty, empty and unfeeling, like a hole

And school, friends, Coca-Cola, family

Everyone is so cheerful, only in the past

You are not there, but there is only a dream

From darkness and into darkness, yes, in which I am in love - the groan will be lost, the twelve apostles will run away

Who should I rely on?

On myself, on you, or on the Lord?

It would be simple, yes, but it still wasn't so simple

Tablecloths, sheets - everywhere flooded, scattered

Everywhere broken, pissed on

Everywhere grievances - and to the full!

Waning moon, night sewn with silver

You look at me, you remember me

How tiny the damage is with a sharpened sickle

But how bottomless the crack, how narrow it is!

University during the day, dancing in the evening

To come together again and part again

My essence is spinning in this radiance

University during the day, dancing in the evening

You can leave, or you can stay

But you still won't stay here forever

Alcohol in the evening, intrigue at night

Where will a new book take me

Will it suddenly leak out of my brain right into my bed? (straight to bed)

Shadows ring and souls turn white

I have to wait a hundred and fifty years for the anniversary

To be born and find a soul again (find a soul)

In the evening, tea with a drop of cream

It seems that life is funny and beautiful

Paints my sleeves with red paint (my sleeves)

The night is so white and sacrilegious

Who wants to give themselves to me for free

And become another match in the hand of a fool? (in the hand of a fool, in the hand of a fool)

In the left wing of a forgotten estate

To become the groom of a chemical wedding

And decompose into mold and linden honey

And then a carbuncle, forgotten and ancient

In bottomless hands for my queen

And only the owl sings atonally in a moonless night