А. Подорожный - Последние цветы
текст песни

Everything is written, everything is told
And for a long time, the nodes have been untied,
And the polysadnic carrier is on,
From the freedom of that unexpected
Yes, not so inadvertently,
so unexpectedly turned around,
from the prohibited all-cold,
to universal indifference.

The time became reckless,
Even pegs gave twigs,
They made a shame - feed,
Black seeds, the field raised,
Yes, they did not understand in the mutation,
turned around, but lay down,
In narrow-growing revelations,
Yes, on hikes all the crosses.

And everything blossomed through the threads,
Dress girlfriend married,
and sacred education,
Everything was awarded a punishment of choice,
Over Majesty and strategies,
yes further relevance,
Fleeting illumination,
Yes, invisible loneliness.

And the creatures of God are thrown,
in the fences of the floor of the domes,
and bite with despair,
Yes, because they are powerless after all,
Although all two -legged ones are cursed,
Yes, they read the books cunning,
Yes, lives on the beaks in crowds,
Fertilized complicity.

For movement, they lie obstacle,
Without measurements sold,
Without the desire to impoverish,
For the sake of life in the cherished volost.
And the sea drank all the rivers from the glaciers,
And the super-tropics moved,
and cosmic twists,
Through the holes of ozone ...

Lit entire areas,
where the living ones are no longer praying,
Where are the doomed birthdays,
Everything is washed with boiling water,
where are prostitution syndromes,
as continuous improvisations,
where in jazz there are only adults,
Where in jazz there are only black.

Parsley swept on a tractor,
Yes, the whole guard became enviable,
Orchestra of competent brotherhood,
Everyone was stunned with a swearing diesel.
Russian sincere songs,
like the holy torments of the risen,
settled after sabotage,
Relieved in the mortal version.

Yes, all the saps are prophetic songs,
And somewhere in the studio the voice comes down,
So what else do you need to the snakes,
Have you really not crawled?
Yes, there will be no forgiveness in winter,
Long -awaited warming,
And look another red sun,
Behind the trees, disappears, disappears.

Yes, he is familiar with the palms of pain,
Environment, everything is a garden,
Oh, and did not see, Alyonushka, in the wilds,
My scarlet, my scarlet flower.

My last flowers.
Our last flowers.

And only hope for retribution,
Yes, to the miracle of the grandfather-vakuum of the priest,
Supernatural intervention,
Cursed in our heads,
In our souls degenerated,
In our families without father,
There is a sacred war,
Universal liberation!
Universal salvation-I-I-I!

And the gardener's garden will wait for,
And all the flower beds are washed,
Without regret, I say goodbye to them,
Boring neighbors over the years and tables,
He will collect with scissors ...

Our last flowers,
My last flowers.

He will pick up the last raids,

And the dawns hid and beautiful,
They are not born here more commanders,
Only residues of training,
Yes, only sparkles in conclusion.
The days of the kasatics were deceived,
Everything is measured, and everything comes down,
And all the colored words are over,
Yes, there’s nowhere and nowhere
Oh, go further and no-no-no-nod.

1993 bastard.