Prison - kundle | Текст песни

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• Prison
• kundle

KUNDLE (mongrels)
straight streets stink of poison
for those like me
each house is guarding their gates
the city ​​breaks in half
they want to lead us with a sweet melody to
the edge of a precipice, edge of the city

where are you running to?
behind which corner is your burrow?

night silence can be disturbed by a slightest whisper
lets lick of the crumbs from the master's table
but leave a trail
Let's wish our masters sweet dreams
just like well behaved mongrels

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