Текст песни Rickey F ft. Lodoss - Плакаты

In your twenty you are satisfied with pity
To those who reached so little
Faith in his exception
And dreams to die from youth.

After all, you understand that a lot
Do not need to grow to advanced years,
Important, just how many days
You will remember the total of them.

Conscious how ridiculous sounds,
But still intends to overcome the system,
With contempt looking at robots,
Locked offices in wall box.

You will go to the end to
They sank your stupid songs
And with the wall encouragingly wink
Glares of Shakura and Presley posters.

Chorus:
Posters hang from the walls.
With battered, dirty walls.
Oshmets of different spheres
Where have you been needed sometime.

Walls hang posters,
Fragments of young years
A bunch of ideas that are not,
A bunch of people not,
How no sense and results.

Quite wait and exhaust
No hundred times have become decades.
You finished the university and found a job,
But my plans to become someone was constantly postponed.

Married but not on what he loved
And on what he loved, you swore in the metropolis,
Even there is a car,
You do not go to her, but "just to be".

And I wanted to stay forever,
But the story does not remember as the name of those
For whom "Discern and jump"
It was not equal to "disperse and fly".

Remembering how to get home
And with a smile shook on these robots in the morning in the subway
Now you live there and rot,
Life is a game, you're * ball in it.

And what is your meaning if you
Even attempts did not pierce these walls,
Hands to break into the flap
All habitual schemes, grafted values.

All dreams on fire, you are only a tool,
Large business gear.
In the older years, missed the moment
When I wanted * butch stability.

Mom is pleased, everything is normal -
Home and family, on Saturdays Friends.
And you would be happy to take a day,
But on Monday, it is impossible to be late for work.

And dotted tupacious posters
And Elvis is lonely hanging on the wall.
As an unshakable reminder
About whom you, with * ka, did not manage.

Chorus:
Posters hang from the walls.
With battered, dirty walls.
Oshmets of different spheres
Where have you been needed sometime.

Walls hang posters,
Fragments of young years
A bunch of ideas that are not,
A bunch of people not,
How no sense and results.

Pain? Not true.
It is howl heads or mind ringing
This is a gon, bluff as in the maps.
The brain is lying to you, it is stupid divorce.

In the fight while there is a spark brother.
Need to rush on a break, in the auricles of the dream
In endorphine almost drowned
In the bile, we spent once good luck and Fart.

I had to say so to speak
Meaning to blame himself now.
The gray head will fall here,
Where years will gradually hide into the shadow.

And it seems to be fully practiced. Yes old man?
But Punk rock turned into Industrial,
There was time and goal and an eld worth
And now only pills for breakfast.

Do not help cream, organ transplants, ointments and sleep.
The body is no longer a sports hall, but prison,
Or a club-restaurant with a tag "Z30".

In family matters, it's too late
Look for some kind of failure and gap,
Of all you only Elvis and Eternal Tupac,
Did not lose face over the years.

You are not a weight already on the scales, you are water and sand.
Poster yellowers and Cryoch,
But hanging on the wall and does not shake it.

You are afraid to sleep for death
Can be carried in an eternal thistle,
So who has become a poster,
Let even be folded on the mezzanine.

Chorus:
Posters hang from the walls.
With battered, dirty walls.
Oshmets of different spheres
Where have you been needed sometime.

Walls hang posters,
Fragments of young years
A bunch of ideas that are not,
A bunch of people not,
How no sense and results.