Александр Фролов - Старый театр
текст песни

Old Theater

Nervous murmur
underground hiding places,
crushed to glass
Disruption ceremony
Looking for substitutions.
Today's newspaper number -
Lime, embroidered in the eye.
Cranes give holes
arrowhead -
A tiger biting the tail of a sparrow.
Top. Twisted nerve -
spatially unsteady.
Gorky taste
oil rod -
Pencil Parish
to the splash in the bathroom.
Write wet letters,
Comprehending yourself
through the glow
Paper waterfall.
Restoration of last year's snow,
The dumbness of dusty traces -
Somewhere in the middle
The key to the fire ladder.
The sky responded with nausea -
In expired milk
Squeezed: reinforcement, fear
Quiet peeling of the skin.
The light is heavy -
The lines are eating
multidimensionality.
The theater was forgotten with mold
rotten boards,
Actors in plants
They look and are silent
roots holding in the mouth,
Like rays of expiration outside.
And we are only the walls
And new holes
We multiply by zero
to jump to the beginning,
Without waiting for the closing of the shift.
The curve of space
Squeezingly lies
under the grains of new constellations
fertilizer -
Pockets swell
Emptings by multiplication
And time will clog in the temples,
Like homeless
In the heart seizure
On the old bench.
Dust construction technique
From the set,
smoldering here.
Outpost. Decline.
Coal whirlwind
shares nectar
fresh air
on torn cells.
Denominator of the force of denial.
The taste of iron.
The old theater breaks
dried crust of wine
From the screaming sky
- deserted sunset.
Crushed stone. Blood.
The disassembled bicycle skeleton.
Fog.