Lyrics behind a closed door. – Behind a closed door Noise ms behind a closed door
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
In the closet behind the assembly hall
Something stank and it was cramped,
But for us it was a cult place.
Basically there we spent wonderful school years,
Preferring it to both desks and entrances.
Thanks to the closet for a happy childhood,
It was there that we wrote our first song,
It was there that we first cracked two hundred,
And then our bassist lost his virginity
Depriving our vocalist Olesya of honor (who studied a year younger),
With us she was interesting and fun,
The girl was cool, but she sang mediocrely
And weighed one hundred and ten kilograms with a height of one hundred and seventy.
When the next day already being sober,
He told her honestly: I'm sorry, but we can't be together.
She answered him with a gesture and, slamming the door in protest,
Forever left our orchestra.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
Who are these guys? Find them before it's too late!
The fact that I have not heard them before is the devil's machinations.
These are our future stars! I'm serious!
Exclaimed upon hearing our demo, boss universal.
Soon behind the closed door of the office, putting the murals,
We got a bunch of babos up front.
Our songs have become more famous than jingle bells and happy days.
Journalists in pink annoyed us with their questions.
A year later, I masterfully owned the button accordion,
As a result of the dung heap, those unbearable sounds,
What I published from the lungs releasing air,
Standing outside the studio booth in a comatose state
Sounders, brushing off bitter tears with their sleeves,
We spelled our songs scrupulously.
No creative growth, but we are stars!
Cool magazine readers masturbate to our poster.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind the closed door of the dressing room
I was sick, very hot
In view of the deplorable state of the liver and kidneys.
The concert is in jeopardy, the manager is concerned
An angry audience tears the security to shreds.
Delaying the concert for two hours before the start,
I climbed onto the stage, languidly showing the scythe to the full house.
I pick the strings slowly, I trample the lotion with sneakers,
I scratch my cheek on the microphone between verses.
Even the most dedicated fans don't recognize the hits
The drummer picks up the pace, I don't remember the words.
A stoned bassist waving his fingers past the frets
Drunk DJ, swearing, pukes under the remote control.
Voices are heard from the front rows:
Hey what did I pay mower for? give me back my money!
Suddenly a veil shrouded my eyes behind a closed door,
I'll be leaving the room soon. After half an hour.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In a closet, behind the assembly hall, behind a closed door
Drums blared, guitars roared.
In the closet behind the auditorium. three times per week
Our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet behind the auditorium. Rehearsed school ensemble.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Something stank, and it was crowded,
But for us it was a cult place,
Basically there we spent wonderful school years,
Preferring it to both desks and entrances.
Thanks to the closet for a happy childhood,
This is where we wrote our first song,
It was here that we first cracked two hundred,
And then our bassist lost his virginity
Depriving our vocalist Alesya of honor,
That I studied a year younger
With us she was interesting and fun,
The girl was cool, but she sang mediocrely,
And weighed one hundred and ten kilograms,
With a growth of one hundred and seventy,
When the next day, already being sober,
He told her honestly - "I'm sorry, but we can't be together."
She answered him with a gesture, and slamming the door in protest,
Forever left our orchestra.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
"Who are these guys? Find them before it's too late!
The fact that I have not heard them before is the devil's machinations!
These are our future stars
I'm serious!"
Exclaimed upon hearing our demo,
Boss "Universal".
Soon, behind the closed office door,
Having put the murals, we received a bunch of babos in advance,
Our songs are more famous than "Jingo bells" and "Happy Birthday"
Journalists in pink got us with their questions
A year later, I masterfully owned the button accordion,
As a result, from a heap of dung,
Those unbearable sounds that I made from my lungs,
Breathing out, standing outside the studio booth in a comatose state,
Sounders, brushing away bitter tears with their sleeves, spelled out our songs scrupulously,
No creative growth, but we are stars
Readers of "Cool" magazine gasp at our poster...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the dressing room I was bad, very squishy,
In view of the deplorable condition of the liver and kidneys,
The concert is in jeopardy, the manager is concerned
The enraged public tears the security to shreds,
Delaying the beginning of the concert for two hours,
I got on stage sluggishly
Showing the goat to the full house,
I pick the strings slowly, I trample the lotion with sneakers,
I scratch my cheek on the microphone between verses,
Even the most devoted hair dryers do not recognize hits,
The drummer picks up the pace, I don't remember the words
A stoned bassist waving his fingers past the frets
Drunk DJ swearing under the remote control,
Voices are heard from the front rows
- "Hey, what did I pay the mower for? Give me back the money!"
Suddenly, a veil covered my eyes, Behind the closed ambulance door, I left the hall in half an hour ...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rattled, guitars rattled,
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week, our group rehearsed behind closed doors.
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
In the closet behind the assembly hall
Something stank and it was cramped,
But for us it was a cult place,
Basically there we spent wonderful school years,
Preferring it to both desks and entrances,
Thank you closet for a happy childhood
This is where we wrote our first song
This is where we first cracked two hundred
And then our bass player lost his virginity, depriving him of honor
Our vocalist Olesya, who studied a year younger
With us she was interesting and fun
The girl was cool, but she sang mediocrely
And weighed 110 kilograms with a height of 170
When the next day, already being sober,
He told her honestly: I'm sorry, we can't be together,
She answered him with a gesture and, slamming the door in protest,
Forever left our orchestra ...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...
Who are these guys? Find them before it's too late!
The fact that I have not heard them before is the devil's intrigues,
These are our future stars, I'm serious! -
Exclaimed upon hearing our demo boss Universal...
Soon behind the closed door of the office, putting the murals,
We got a bunch of babos upfront
And they began to swallow the wheels, sniff the powders with their noses,
And rub them into the gums, increasing the doses up to the complete shutdown of the brain ...
Six months later, I masterfully mastered the button accordion,
As a result of those unbearable sounds from the dung heap,
What did I publish, releasing air from my lungs,
Standing outside the studio booth in a comatose state
Sounders, brushing off bitter tears with their sleeves,
We scrupulously collected our songs spell by letter ...
No creative growth - but we are stars!
COOL Magazine Readers Jerk Off To Our Poster!
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...
The dressing room sucked for me - it was very kumarilo,
Only eight dashes nine dots would help me,
The manager is concerned - the concert is in jeopardy,
Pakoman Tramala in the snout like a wino battle beer
It didn’t even cover, but it became a little easier,
Climbed onto the stage, languidly showed the goat to the full house
I pick the strings slowly, I trample the lotion with sneakers
I scratch my cheek on the microphone between verses,
Even the most devoted fans will not recognize the hits
The bassist under the mushrooms smears his fingers past the frets
The pace is accelerated by the drummer, sniffing speeds,
Drunk in the ass DJ, swearing, pukes over the remote control...
Voices are heard from the front rows:
Hey, what did I pay mower for? Give me back my money!
Suddenly a veil covered my eyes,
Behind the closed door of the ambulance, I left the hall in half an hour ...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...
Text, lyrics Noize MC - Behind the Closed Door
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
In the closet behind the assembly hall
Something stank and it was cramped,
But for us it was a cult place,
Basically there we spent wonderful school years,
Preferring it to both desks and entrances,
Thank you closet for a happy childhood
This is where we wrote our first song,
This is where we first cracked two hundred
And then our bass player lost his virginity, depriving him of honor
Our vocalist Olesya, who studied a year younger
With us she was interesting and fun
The girl was cool, but she sang mediocrely
And weighed 110 kilograms with a height of 170
When the next day, already being sober,
He told her honestly, "I'm sorry, but we can't be together"
She answered him with a gesture and, slamming the door in protest,
Forever left our orchestra ...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...
Who are these guys? Find them before it's too late!
The fact that I have not heard them before is the devil's intrigues,
These are our future stars, I'm serious! -
Exclaimed upon hearing our demo boss "Universal"...
Soon behind the closed door of the office, putting the murals,
We got a bunch of babos upfront
Our songs got more famous than "Jingle Bells" and "Happy Birthday"
Journalists in pink annoyed us with their questions.
A year later, I masterfully owned the button accordion,
As a result of those unbearable sounds from the dung heap,
What did I publish, releasing air from my lungs,
Standing outside the studio booth in a comatose state
Sounders, brushing off bitter tears with their sleeves,
Letters collected our songs meticulously ...
No creative growth - but we are stars!
COOL Magazine Readers Jerk Off To Our Poster!
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...
The dressing room was bad for me - it was very crooked,
In view of the deplorable state of the liver and kidneys,
The concert is in jeopardy, the manager is concerned
An angry audience tears the security to shreds.
Delaying the beginning of the concert for two hours,
I climbed onto the stage, languidly showed the "goat" to the full house
I pick the strings slowly, I trample the lotion with sneakers
I scratch my cheek on the microphone between verses,
Even the most devoted fans will not recognize the hits
The drummer picks up the pace, I don't remember the words
A stoned bassist smears his fingers past the frets
Drunk DJ, swearing, pukes under the remote control...
Voices are heard from the front rows:
“Hey, what did I pay mower for? Give me back my money!"
Suddenly a veil covered my eyes,
Behind the closed door of the ambulance, I left the hall in half an hour ...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Behind the closed door, drums rumbled, guitars roared...
In the closet, behind the assembly hall,
Three times a week our group rehearsed behind closed doors...