Макулатура - Некоторый рисунок
текст песни

We are all armchair adventurers
Poets without poetry, sleepy black grouse
We are looking for tobacco that has taken root
In the seams of trouser pockets

Airing out boxing gloves
Belmondo on his last breath
With a cigarette in the corner of his mouth
Just not as charming

When we approach the mirror
We see a large pan of semolina porridge
And melted butter in the middle

Have you heard the alarm so often?
"Ghostbusters"
We went down the pole and jumped into the car
Which swayed and crossed at night
And she came to a false call,
That we stopped preparing

Even when I say "we", I only mean myself
I don't want any pack, I don't want to open up to my friends
I have enough imagination to be anyone
Everyman, Coffee Lover, Samurai

Without a master, without a flag, without a family, without enemies
No sword, no lover, no belt, no sense of humor
No income, no living space, no shoes, no soil underfoot
No curtains on the windows

Here's some drawing
To pin the last image
The window in the room was really
Huge, like an airport
And the woman who was with me then -
Stretched out on tiptoe to smoke through the window
She even had to fly up

There was fog and sleet outside the window.
The wind seemed to pick up star dandruff
And smeared it on the walls of houses
Why did their St. Petersburg yellowness turn into gilding?
For those whose imagination has been dumped

Guards lived in these grimy houses
They were separated from work by one road and several snowdrifts.
And here it is - prison, crosses

I was lying on a concave
The mattress of a squeaky bed
Inherited from the previous ones
The inhabitants of this huge cold apartment

I was high and my dick was standing like this
That the pain radiated into the eardrums
There were no curtains on the windows
And the woman pressed her chest to the glass
Through the entire area of ​​which is comparable
There was a crack running through the football field