Тропы не врут - Старик рисовал портрет
текст песни

The old man painted a portrait
The years became tight
Deep, dense minor
It was stronger than tobacco resin.
The host ripped off the envelope
And in a whisper awkward
drove into a faned trunk
Date of the end of the chapter

The old man painted a portrait
Smooth succeeded crookedly
Behind the curtains of the ribs needle
Stumbling pulled a twist
Do not take a ticket back,
Do not drink beer in the reserved seat
Through the spiritual swamp
The driver is not lucky

Stars go out at dawn.
Black beak marks prey
Before death, everything is like children.
Empty pockets, empty nets,
Empty eyelids, only wind
Eternal, adult
Does not sleep

Collects on the boxes
By lining, alleys
Like raisins on lean rolls,
Like shreds on nooks
Flaps, fragments, skins ...
Beads. Memory of cigarette butts.
Silent ...

The old man painted a portrait
Joints and shutters creaked.
The skin of the steppe dunes
I saved salt in cleft
Dull, dry bouquet
Faded memories
That life did not finish
The mole did not disdain

The old man painted a portrait
Someone breathed outside ...
Whether the pancake of the moon
Eternity is a draft.
Conscience is a boutist
Climb stubbornly from leather
The palms were full
Now there are only grains in a handful
Stars go out at dawn.
Black beak marks prey
Before death, everything is like children.
Empty pockets, empty nets,
Empty eyelids, only wind
Eternal, adult
Does not sleep

Collects on the boxes
By lining, alleys
Like raisins on lean rolls,
Like shreds on nooks
Flaps, fragments, skins ...
Beads. Memory of cigarette butts.
Silent ...

It seems to be cheerful
But I did not leave a trace
There are no complaints in the book
And in the book “Thank you”
The last verse. And this is someone else's verse.
The old man painted a portrait. The old man painted a portrait.

Alexey Ilyushin (c) 2017