ТРИАДА - Пробитые барабаны
текст песни

One-two...
Broken drums, injuries are inflicted!
Skulls are smashed!
Bone breaks!

The conductor's hand trembled - gave a sign,
As if it winked, like the scent of sandalwood -
Cheered up, made to move
Each musician of the orchestra.

On high, on low notes and registers
Motley motives are being collected.
After all, today is the end of the semester.
We are giving a concert and we must do everything quickly.

Play cleanly, hit the beat
And beat out a drum roll,
Like twist dancers.
I bet it will be easy to do this
For stars, symphonic monsters.

Wars in bands
Aggressive ones are found guilty.
Brute force is used!
Rehearsals from morning till night.

The fingers no longer feel the instrument,
The eyes are watering.
And it seems - nothing will work out.
And for this it was not worth torturing yourself so!

That's not all,
The beats are knocked out by the so-called "enemy of the people" local.
He feels cramped, something doesn't please him.
He doesn't always find a reason,
Then he bares his teeth at rudeness, rushes, and pounces!

Like a mad cur, he won't "fetch" -
And the first grade of string chord
For many years now he has been subjected to harsh criticism,
And he calls guitarists "guitarists".

And something needs to be done.
To beat with flippers, to appease with caresses,
Or simply - to punish harshly.
Deciding unanimously how to do it,
So that he remembers the lessons of the class for a long time.

Don't look askance at colleagues,
Answer the questions posed,
Don't bullshit too much, hide your ardor away,
Otherwise a meeting will be arranged,
As for a drinker on Vishnu, bracho!

You look.
The audience is already clapping their hands here.
"We've never seen anything like this!"
With a squeal, this group was quickly kicked out of the dressing room!

"We are going to arrange everything grandly!
It is too late to make any changes!
A few seconds remain until the beginning,
Everyone saw the swing, heard the sigh.

Wind instruments, the creaking of strings, plus... Bass,
A certain prettiness appeared on the faces of the smart ones,
The drummer's grin stretched,
The rest of the teeth clenched like a vice!

Then such a production,
Someone thought that they were filming a movie.
A new action movie, with actors - professional stuntmen,
Who played too well!

They jumped like samurai, flew like in "The Matrix" -
They all just wanted to kick the drum master's ass for disobedience,
For all his mistakes made earlier.

His mug ended up on the piano,
And the violinists in his a*al played A minor
With varnished bows, beat kicked in the kidneys,
Cut with strings, strangled with straps...

Wars in the teams
Aggressive people are found guilty.
Brute force is used,
Very brute force!

Shoot here, bitch!
Don't get in our ass, bitch!
If you start slapping your face, we'll treat you roughly!
Knock the bull out - you'll end up with torture,
And the drums will be pierced!

Shoot here, bitch!
Don't get in our ass, bitch!
If you start slapping your face, we'll treat you roughly!
It's not nice to do that - punish yourself quickly
And don't be rude against the team!

Shoot here, bitch!
Don't get in our ass, bitch!
If you start slapping your face, we'll treat you roughly!
Stupid bull - you'll end up with torture,
And the drums will be broken!

Shoot here, bitch!
Don't get into our ass, bitch!
If you start clicking your face - we'll treat you roughly!
It's not nice to do that - punish yourself quickly
And don't be rude to the team!