lesstalk feat. evolve., WOAB - тройка - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

The weekend is saturated with poison,

the world's grip is weakening,

but it's still here.

We were late for breakfast and the sun—this sun—has disappeared under the pressure of the heavens,

leaving in its place two questions: is it true, or is it perhaps a bluff—is it lazy to dream only of meeting eyes sadder than all the dead Christmas trees?

The weekend is saturated with poison!

We are reflections

of the events of days gone by,

we are like needles among countless haystacks.

Everything that is missing now was given away, and therefore we preserve these sets of words for bright futures.

Only days will remain—thoroughly saturated.

For now, only days will remain

thoroughly saturated,

but the night has always been replaced only by lights.