Макулатура - мокрый снег
текст песни

The poet finds himself on a bench
At night or in the morning in a deserted park
Without goals and money, without knowledge and memory
Without point of view and system

He looks at pigeons and dirty asphalt
Exhaling the remains of life with the steam
Had to leave, but for some reason stayed
Like a lonely brought

Watch how the city is emptied
In the snow, the city is emptied in the sea
The city is groaning a rot from pipes
The people simulate a fainting

And again demonstrates all his strength
Laconic slogans on the fence
Grinds and distributes the amount
Homeless people and officials, new Feduks

The poet needs a feather to
Fragments of nails came out with ink
Tens of women
Thin -tormented the heart of hundreds of devils

The poet needs paper
To impregnate it with your pus
Blood, alcohol and then
Spilled in a slaughter with invisible monsters

Need key water to
Rinse from your own skin
A stream of clean air to
Read the last poems to anyone

The poet prays to wet snow
Praying the last piece of earth
Reflected in a puddle of the fragment of the sky
Rods the fence of the fence with his hands with frail

After a thousand hangover and a thousand brooks
Let me see the end, write an epilogue
Burning finale, through the comfort of new buildings
I need to see how the city will die

Hanging with bankers on bloody pillars
Having choked with butchers in their own dirt
Hell will settle in their frozen pupils
Souls will be drowned in a ditch, as in a crater

I am the last worker at the old factory
Jung on an empty steamer
The last one who does not follow health
And in MC Duck comes for potatoes

Still drinks sweet port
Looks out the windows, like in animal cells
There is still the same scale on the walls
And the eyes of zero tired of boredom

Stopped recalling old enthusiasts
All this time hesitated
Like washed Khryuchevo in the toilet
Gypsum pioneer do not pry the mountain

Advertising of square meters and MKADA
Change the frames of old porn
This childhood sneaks up imperceptibly
As dementia - without any order

Childhood takes revenge like a grandmother in line
It is immediately replaced by old age
Time froze and his days are numbered
And then it all starts again

I see it alone or you are all too
Poorlags e*Annas, are it locked here?
A man without fate shoots a siege
And he says that for a long time there is frost

I don't remember a single other month
In addition to this wet snow
And I don't know a single stop
With which I would not be late for the first

The last one to see these trees
Before turning into straw
A cold evening gets stuck forever
Like an unprofitable last word

After a thousand hangover and a thousand brooks
Let me see the end, write an epilogue
Burning finale, through the comfort of new buildings
I need to see how the city will die

Having swallowed all the past years
As a cure for prostatitis
See in your eternal dream
Wet snow on frozen faces