Копюшон - жевее чем прежде
текст песни

Lively than before. Lilac night, started yulis. Not yet mature Madame, in a raspberry robe. Biting lips, puts dinner on the stove. I finish the Grand, in a smoky square. Soviet cinema, has long been not in fashion. I look at a shaved gloss, with the Rodin Merlin Monroe. I leaked into the washbasin, and never chopped coffee ... After all, you can’t see the tramp, the newspapers Figaro. Who is a hairdresser, seven birds in a week? Who on the tsunami again, the bitch, put it on horseback? He hissed to me then, you are not a poet! Not a genius! When I sent red boots for tobacco. I wanted to smear the stool with cheap, liquid soap. Grate the rope from the linen with the same composition. Someone granny, treated to children Kizil. When I realized, the hairdresser is probably me ... Chorus. Like a scream at dawn, let my rhymes and lands and mountains hear. In a paper envelope, I keep minor notes from the bards of Paris. Wrapped in a chain, I stand on the edge in immense clothes. I will squeeze them stronger, but I made an oath more alive than before. I bought a ticket from a bartender, for a migraine carousel. That the papyrus did not suffer from a goose pen. Mosque attacked again, measure his jackets. But somewhere under the edge, the string managed to tremble. The elite in restaurants, everything rang in silver. Like, the faces are fatter, the conscience will not swing with a finger. I spit on the Ministry of Health, but to reach the climax. To hell with the whole world, under a blue umbrella. So why am I not a king, access measurements? Only because he took an example from the great centuries! Not yours, I am a star, not your charismatic genius! Collector of Siberian predators, slightly icy wolves. Gound to the mouthpiece of fables, not my fun. Rap jacks, like a frantic jacket of fleas. And yet these buffoons, I wanted success. Yes, only here, I could not wish for success ..