найтивыход, Руру - помехи
текст песни

All these poems are empty words
Without one
Someone needs to hear them
And I'm still intoxicated by the bitterness of alcohol
Lying crosswise on the windowsill
Keeping my breathing ever more even and quiet
I will avoid the dangers outside
Just looking at the bellows
I am those words that you will never
Speak out loud
And now
The walls echo in both directions
Pages in my hands, and static in my head
All around me are banalities
And wherever I go, thoughts haunt
My minute-long stereo letters
Will never reach you again
They won't find the same me here
With a wide smile, stretching my hands up, not to the bottom
And teach me to enjoy the new day
Not to open my eyes in the middle of the night
And not to run to my desk
Floating, tossing and turning like a fish in the current
And I will never become a bird
Unless in a cage
I'm not afraid of the rain
I'm not afraid of the snow Falling from the roof
And feelings became superfluous
Deprived of meaning, washed the smile from my face
It seems I died long ago
But I remember the taste of those very cherries from childhood
Where did I run away to?
And today there's nowhere to go
Days with the taste of loneliness
And countless dead nights
Behind my back, behind me
Rolling lines in the mud of the past
And screw it all
Hello, loneliness
Long live boring days
We cry together about stupid love
Ever louder, because we're alone
Our feet refuse to cross the threshold of the house
The past grabs from behind and pulls us into the room again
Warming ourselves with online accounts is painfully familiar to us
Lethal doses from simple photo albums
Waiting for ready-made happiness
Cities without travel
Only shrinking within themselves
And the threads of veins narrow
As before, only
In your gaze, sadly
Although, I know, you can be smiling with By everyone
Without saying a word to me
And in sorrow, saying
That everything is fine
Relaxation is only at home
But even there, it's as if the walls are closing in
The axiom of sadness in rewritten
Poems in a new way, within oneself
Changing the painfully oppressive
And inappropriately lying gaze
Looking at people, it's not alien to them
They are all happy and smiling as before
And even without feigned falsehood
I just don't remember when
Everything was normal
I took all the old drawings from
Albums
Sifted through my grievances
Again and within myself
Life behind the walls of the entryways
It languishes in the corners
Of four-walled rooms
Without incriminating evidence against the neighbors
Just pain, and nothing more is needed
Gloves, changing everything like people
Cold, smoke-filled faces
In which we looked for everything familiar
Memories burn away tons of joy, but we don't care about anything
Fake words They fly
From lying lips over a morning latte
Then the unreal in you
Finds an outlet through the throat
Coughing through the hallways
Empty Mondays
And still empty weekdays
The kettle boils in the kitchen
Simply and in vain
Seven switches are broken
Their electrical circuit threads
Will reveal other people's plans
And here again are the familiar intercoms
I love to scream in vain
Straining my throat, which then
Only by dousing it with honey can it
Cure
And after lying around at home for three weeks
All these poems are empty words
Without one
Someone has to hear them
And I still revel in the bitterness of alcohol
Lying across the windowsill
Keeping my breathing ever more even and quiet
I will avoid dangers from the outside
Only by looking at the bellows
I am those words that you will never
Say out loud
Well, now
The walls echo in both directions
Sheets of paper in my hands, but static in my head