стою режу зелень хлюпаю носом не спрашивай хотя...

I’m standing, I cut greens, I squish my nose, don’t ask, although you don’t even ask, it’s easier to think that this is a runny nose and all these songs are not about us but forgive my insides about us, hoping at least for one question your eyes rush but you look away I am a pitiful sight to me it's disgusting to see what it turned me outside quietly inside a hurricane to thump is not an option but are you afraid of where I'm going? while it’s more love than hate, while I am silent, I still don’t hear you here, but the clock is coming (s)