Ефимыч - Большой поэт
текст песни

Like any indisputably great poet,
He's been full of complexes since childhood.
He practically has no teeth.
As, incidentally, does he have any gray hair.
He cringes at the word "cop."
He could get drunk at any moment.
He's been wearing the same pants for the last ten years.

He seems to be floating, as in the prophecy.
Alone for a year now.
On a broken couch, like on a boat.
Towards an impossible dream - a madman.

And he has no respite.
And he has no bottom, no roof.
No exit or entrance is visible.
But in the middle - freedom.

He pulls out magical worlds.
Which are not visible until the time comes.
From somewhere on a side branch.
Diving headlong into this branch.
He's a fatalist, he's the highest of the castes.
He's doomed, like King Ecclesiastes.
To answer various questions.
And to set fateful dates.

He seems to be It would float, as in the prophecy
For a year now, alone
On a broken ottoman, like on a boat
Towards an impossible dream - a madman

But in the middle, there is freedom