А. Абельцев - Философ на диване
текст песни

The philosopher on the couch.

Singer of Russia, Contractor of God
He wheezes in columns about the struggle.
It is not difficult to learn quotes,
It is more difficult for a sword to forge fate.
The poet was once tired
And dissolved in the world of sounds.
Not for that he was dying
To play it Bezrukov!
Not for that he tore the aorta,
To paint more than a word
So that someone learned chords
And he performed a singer in a booze!
........................
Not for that and not about it ...
But who will take to judge now?
Now they use the poet,
To conquer intelligence
Your top 40. Above degree!
The page boils like.
And if in the status: "Torn the sail!",
Then you, of course, are erudite.
But my story is busy with another
Itchy depth of questions.
Imagine so on the couch
Lies a young philosopher.
A little chubby from thought
On the guillotine of important thoughts
It still becomes gloomy
When and so already gloomy.
He does not spare his eyes and hands
He opens the "wisdom of years."
Not from Balda and not from boredom
The philosopher on the Internet climbed.
On the public gold sparks
He carries a little breathing.
He longs for words, he longs for truths,
Socrates requires a shower.
In the waves, fingers fingering,
He comprehended the Holy Grail!
Lies a philosopher since November,
And outside the window is already February.
"It's time to think about time!
The thought flashed on the bang. -
"You can spit on Eshenbach,
If there is not a word about winter. "
Diving into Nietzsche, Kant, Bach -
From truths as if on the bed
But suddenly he hears as a grand scale
Someone in the face in the yard.
The philosopher brave philosopher jumped up,
But suddenly he remembered about Christ:
Like, if I received it on the right,
Rather, substitute the left.
"Why should I get out of bed
Enter absurd battles? "
After all, the commandments must be believed
No wonder they are written!
...............................
Lies a philosopher near May.
No words, no letters from friends ...
And loneliness giving
Explores the gut of people.
Here Thomas Mann is his guarantee -
There is a high meaning in silence!
Do not care that there was no friend left,
But there was someone else's thought!
Friends are tortured by time
And it is true that the soul is one.
Friends are aging, falling away,
And truth is always true.
And how not to believe Cicero,
When is the great worthy?
The philosopher cooks pasta
And for friends is now calm.
................................
Maybe you will be alarmed
What is our philosopher - unemployed?
Calm! In his gut
The East entered irrevocably.
I chose work to my liking -
You don’t have to work.
And outside the window July already
And the sun laughs joyfully.
And it did not stop you to laugh
When they did not know the heavy thoughts.
The philosopher dreams of
The teachings tore the mind!
And even though the sofa is not a harrow,
But also, you know, the destiny!
The whole country can be hands,
But brains in the essence of affairs
Penetrate so that bronze of the eyelid
Show the stronghold of being ...
Not everyone is a person
It is given to accomplish discoveries!
................................
For this we will leave the hero
At a crossroads of book truths.
A few annoying, I will not hide
That days fall, like leaves.
Not new history concept,
But without him, perhaps, bad.
After all, understanding is a recipe
And awareness is a dish.