Порез на Собаке - Скрипят Телеги
текст песни

Carts creak, horses sweat
No one remembers where we are going
Nobody knows who we're running from
There seems to be a guy, but he's very busy
He is at the tail of the convoy in a covered cart
It's serious there, he's hanging out with the elite
They won't let you in, you won't be able to get through to them, but
They know where we are basically

We've been traveling for years, the carriages are creaking
Children grow up, grandfathers die
Grandfathers are dying, thrown off the wagon
There is no time to bury in a good way
Stealing food without slowing down
We spit on the beggars, we patch things up
We cut off the unnecessary ones - our own method
We don’t look for problems, we don’t shine with anything

But we drive beautifully – it’s truly epic
Boars, bears, pocket atlas
Let's conquer the planet, humble globe
And there are no rest stops - this is the crowning trick
No halts, always on the move
I understand little, I don’t see the shores
Our entire armada, you can see by their faces
Nothing matters - just to roll

I remember I was looking for an answer from my neighbors
“Where are we going? And why all this?”
“It’s not your concern,” said the grandmother, “
Fuck compote, here’s your supplement!”
Better calm down, there's nothing to be afraid of
This disorder has its own constancy
The eyelids are getting heavy, the mares are wheezing
Carts creak and always have been