грусная мелодия на ксилофоне потрясающе берет за душу
For four fortnights I've fled from my fortress Foraging forests five footsteps in length Fortitude found within forty ounce bottles Flowing like flies from your face From your face
And my neighborhood It's been filled brim with black cats And when I go driving they walk through my path all the time Every time
First we were babies, we're birthing and dying Then we were children, we were playing and crying And then we were teenagers we were smoking and fucking But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing Liking, mud larking, and licking our wounds We've created by lusting and lying to ourselves and to others We're sadly sighing
And I'd like to be a big ball of meat That bee's can buzz around and eat when I die So that I may be granted one sense of purpose