найтивыход - 79-25
текст песни

It's a pity, there is no truth in alcohol
There is only consolation
Consolation in the dark
Consolation in existence
This figure was almost ordinary and free
But then after the eviction, the truth was gone from the numbers-facets
Seventy-nine twenty-five
And the clock says five o'clock-zero
There is dirt on my shoes in the hallway
I was just walking at night and thinking, but about something else
There are no lines about her in the phone book
And it seems to me that they didn't dedicate songs to her
They didn't dedicate them, okay
It can even be warmer on the bench in the morning
Warmer than in the apartment
And despite the snow
And the short mercury path along the Celsius thermometer
And inside me, probably, everything died out
Only the opening of beer houses saves
Taste, friend, your song motives
And let the ice not crack on the puddles
Even if you get up
In the morning and coffee is drunk differently
And from the window everything looks sleepy
You can't hear the cries of birds
You can't hear the gong
And after wars with yourself upon awakening
Delight
The figure remembers only her
Let it deliberately incite the others
Don't remember
Winter has come and will stay for three months
Cool wind in the morning
Frost in a glass of tea
Without mixing a ton of discontent
And with sugar
Exalt yourself and be above tears
And be above a ton of sadness
Don't remember the past
Although it catches up with you in steps on the flights of stairs
Maybe even grab you by the hand
Catch the flights of late seagulls
And so as not to run away from home
And to close yourself off at least for a fraction
You are a lone wolf without a pack, you go to bed
But time is too obvious
And there is no more way back
You remember the morning, coffee and your apartment
And the numbers seventy-nine dash twenty-five