ВАНТУЗ - ТОСКА
текст песни

Here only I and the light bulb that gives a warm light
Only I am a light bulb and there is no one else here
Once her thread inside will burn out inside
And immediately an insidious darkness will reign for a while
Will find a burnt bulb of a replacement for a stronger
Treason without a doubt as a norm for people
Instead of a conventional bulb, compressed gas will light up
Cold indifference invisible to the eyes
A simple lamp was exhausted by distributing his heat
It was spent unique and time was expired
Now the economical behaves smarter
The inherent resource in it for a couple of thousand days
And the old light is already in the bucket
She did not figure it out on time in this game
Thanks for the luminaries and pleased us
But sometimes it still comes to say goodbye for an hour

This is longing to pain at the temple when the hand was collected on the forehead
I was longing searched and did not save the grin, the trace was filled with sand, I forever lagged

Here only I and the light bulb that gives a warm light
I have a book in my hands now for fifteen years
I went deep into reading for the evening with my head
A thread helps me that shines over me
I did not assume then that that moment would end
And that there will be no light bulb and time for books
And all the heroes of the story will once shut up
When I close the book, I discovered a chat for myself
Now I am not an observer, but her hero himself
Someone else is scribbled by paragraphs
Sitting at the monitors, we say hello
Starting its stories of the end that is not
And somewhere in a dusty cabinet lies the started volume
Probably he is forever postponed for later
Thanks for all the knowledge that you gave me
Forgive me that I didn't read you at the age of fifteen

This is longing to pain at the temple when the hand was collected on the forehead
I was longing searched and did not save the grin, the trace was filled with sand, I forever lagged

Now my light bulb has cold white light
All day behind the monitor, I change the color of the face
The more new in the world, the cups seem
I spend more time on temporary friends
Information flows of thousands of new books
For films and clips, they are not visible at all
I poke my finger at the sky floating on a slippery ice floe
I am a little fly in a huge web
Keeps my secrets huge Internet
Where years I am waiting for an answer to the hello hello
And again without waiting, I continue to wait
I will turn off for the night to start a sutra
More and more often this scene seems to me a game
In which I probably learned to be myself
But I can imagine how ten years later
I will write about this a completely different verse