MLAD - Психиатрия - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Once

From this harsh gas, I spat out my lungs onto the pavement.

The world seems pale, and that says it all. I'm falling into the abyss, lying down on the bed.

I don't feel pain.

Tramadol replaces the last feeling (feeling).

These sounds behind the wall have become a fucking habit.

A daily performance in contemporary art.

Talking heads want to prove something to me.

I'd listen to their impeccable bullshit.

But forgive me, I've started drinking.

Tell me, am I locked up?

No. You're just a cowardly jerk, the Creator made you this way.

Maybe a bullet will be enough for me?

Maybe I'm normal here, and you're all insane?

Maybe I don't want to live the way you want me to?

Stop it, stop.

I wake up in the hospital room. (Shish shish shish)

My eyelids are so heavy, I don't want to open them. O

Someone said it could have been worse (bad trip, bad trip)

It's raining outside and the sound of a thousand drops in puddles.

They say I have a cold. Or just a concussion, who the fuck knows who needed me.

I was born and will die there on Baltiyskaya from the fucking cold.

Some flashbacks not from my life, damn it.

TWO

Hole in the head doesn't heal quickly

Weak flesh before the finishing shot

You're making fucking crap

Pour gasoline from this canister on me, damn it.

I don't give a shit about your meaning, damn it (you've quickly deflated).

I've already been crucified in my head for my thoughts.

How much money do you need, bro, to sell your roof (blah blah)

My eyes are so black, bitch, that I'm not much of a face (the gloomiest one here).

The mice hanged themselves - the beggar hanged himself. This morning the sun won't rise, and the cold will blanket the rooftops. I won't be able to call my ex.

This morning the planet lost a poet. Newspapers don't write about it, it's all about the thousands!

(In thousands, in thousands, in thousands, MONEY)