Смирнов Алексей - Полковник на стихи Игоря Царева
текст песни

Colonel
V.B.

Under the table, the mastiff sighs in a dream,
Carefully daring his head
Near the legs.
And the owner with a click with a feather, yes
As if a dashing man in a dark night
Sharpes a knife.
He is a colonel of GRU and passed Beerut,
But they do not take the angels intelligence,
So sinful.
But today it is like a simple kid
Two hours stared at heaven
At the bird.
You, colonel, shooting sparrow,
Go to the country, forget everything,
Drink Malaga!
No, I hit the Bozhenkin Mastikhin
And struck to old age for poetry
Poor fellow.
Ah, colonel, this is not worth a mass,
You buy a luxurious Merce for happiness
Or Hammer ...
But his words are bubbled in the throat
And the poor head smokes
Above poetry.
And neighbors in the house: Kurly-Kurlles,
Look what eagles we have
Live!
Under the edge, a fragment of the agenda in hell,
And the eyes - like bulbs of a hundred watts! -
The women melt ...