Blot - On a Grain Field (Act 2) | Текст песни

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• Blot
• On a Grain Field (Act 2)

under the red sky
I'm foreign product
they made me in a dream of gray ash and ice cream
with too very large boots
from lost memory
so I decided so I decided
to slip on the back
head first to the door
from snowball from snowball
fly at extreme angles
and cry for fresh faces
I smile showing in the most dark places on the earth
I walk on my nerves like on a rope
my blood is sent to the north

i'm looking for my tongue to lick her there
when I started out my way
she didn't leave me oxygen
but throw some pieces of black bread
I felt the breathing from her chest
the snow has back around her neck

on a grain field
my head pushes hard ceiling
I want to bloom this spring
and I feel the flavor
of the neighboring bees
of talking machine
they are circling in the dance with dead branches , midst the dead
the wind will break the cross
I hear him sing to me
this scream on line for support
between wheelchair and fresh'n'soft
I'm grow by leaps and bounds
I can not to distinguish colors
no good no bad
no my no strange
I chosen sort of blood myself

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