Текст песни Исмаилов Тимур - Дурдом

Madhouse
HM G
City of stolen rays
EM F #
Head yes no shoulders
Night of the dead executioners
Life of beaten squares

Our path lies along the star
A dream stands at the gate
Our trick failed
Fakir accidentally died

Sea of ​​wet clouds
A bunch of black and white dreams
Warming your hands on the fire
Not a killer or a thief

January is dressed in silver
And in that bucket the fumes are drowning
There's a star burning under the ceiling
Pulling the train tracks

Snowballs fly across the field
The dogs choked on howling
Where are you, my spring?
You are a dead end and I am a wall

A circle is drawn on the ground
It is not clear who is the friend here
Where do I live and where is my home?
It turned out to be a madhouse.