Do you like smoke in my hands ...

< Felix Komarov



Do you like smoke in my hands,
Circling funnel ...
Drinks stringy you fear ...
Drinks made of thin veins.
You scream, but no sound ...
Smoke as soundless sleep,
And the flows in the veins of meth
The promise of the best.
Not the drug, and the soul - breaking ... The whole reason
Too good memory - that's looking for cover
. As homeless from house to house,
Looking to eat God,
But there are only trash
And a little bit of love.
And love - it is like smoke
Burns eyelids,
And wander in unnecessary Rome
Dymocheloveki.
Disappears smoke in the sky,
Not grasp look ...
We sit hand in hand,
Enjoying starbursts ...