Loc-Dog - Лагуна - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

On this hot night, there’s no time for sleep; I sought freedom—and found myself.

Too much flattery, too many grievances; I want to forget you forever.

It happened to us, it happened to them—was it snow, or was it frost?

It’s not easy to guess the answer: what kind of fruit is this? It is...

I know what’s up with you. Yeah, that’s just how I am; you’d better guard your mind against paranoia.

In a calm, steady procession, the days drift by, just like at sea.

The most self-satisfied one. The very, very, very one.

The absolute first—I’m as unexpected as the first snowfall of winter. Apartments from Mom, Euros in my pockets,

Nonsense in my head, and a Maybach waiting right outside my pad. If you’re not the type we can immediately talk into submission...

You won’t be able to keep up with this flow, unable to catch the beat. I’m attacking everyone in sight;

I’m not the type to go soft. I’m here to take you.

Wake up. Do exactly what I told you to do. Come here. I’m dusting my fingers—you’re dying to lick them clean, aren't you? Go ahead.

Just between us—and between them—everyone has been waiting so long for that white frost.

You never answered my question: what kind of island is Barbados?

It happened to us... wait, forgive me—who will fill the void left by this empty game?

Don’t bother searching; you won’t find us. Up in the sky, there is only the wind on its way.

On this hot night, there’s no time for sleep; I sought freedom—and found myself.

Too much flattery, too many grievances; I want to forget you forever.

It happened to us, it happened to them—was it snow, or was it frost?

It’s not easy to guess the answer: what kind of fruit is this? It’s a coconut.

Dawn is drawing near; the turntable has spun through its 135th revolution.

No need to turn the volume down—I’m a king in my own right, reigning supreme in my own niche. And the hands keep moving, moving... You think you’re so important—arguing, screaming, you bitch. Come on, stop being such a drag.

We’re somewhere past the MKAD, fifty kilometers out toward the suburbs, but inside my head, it’s all anime cartoons.

We’re rolling fresh into your drama on a cold sheet of ice; don’t let your feelings mess up my anesthesia.

Better get up and strike a pose for me—or just act a little more modest.

Just between us—and between *them*—everyone’s been waiting so long for that white frost.

You never gave me an answer to my question: what exactly is this island of Barbados?

It was something we shared... wait, forgive me—who will replace the missing pieces of this hollow game?

Don’t bother looking; you won’t find us. Up in the sky, there is only the wind on our path.