ЗАПАРОВАНЫЙ - Записки улиц
текст песни

And summer ripened the plum tree under the window.
I suffered a plum tree falling under the windowsill.
It was the fifth floor, seemingly alive.
But, from up high, the second floor, no, dead.

A kopeck in a bag, red deeds.
Standing up the floors, breathing on their feet.
No connection check, on their heels.
But, they fucked up Neighbor Galya.

And Aunt Galya, from us, a full-color portrait.
Her neighbor, how he crumpled her front garden.
And that the one from the fifth floor didn't like visitors.
Broken heels, fell, as everything in detail.

And Galya pressed the floor and height.
The cold, left gun warmed my back.
We left before the cops visited.
See you later, Galya, before identification.

These are sayings of the courtyards, notes of the streets.
If you do something, keep quiet, do it, don't show off.
Don't show your face, go away and think.
Will the shredded garbage find a trace?

These are sayings of the courtyards. Street notes
Be sure of the second, everything is in essence
From the train car, so as not to see the gray poles
Weighed, you see, beauty, make a theme

And the theme is quiet: Spring, on the track theme
Under the streetlights, the private sector slept as usual
The ranch owner was a gypsy, nicknamed Hector
A not unknown speculator in medicinal products

Of the old ones, there was a head and a caramel
And in no time they get sick and have no sense
Hidden in the trigger are deeds and gold
The ranch owner, a gardener, hid in the soil

A raspberry bush disturbed by a vile attack
A vat of goodness on the old ones is devoid of face by the rise
Water began to flow, waiting for arrival
But the ranch was waiting, dancing, all on alert

From the seventh model, at the signal, the sufferer screams
And the uncle, with gunpowder from the porch, on the raspberries
Decides to join a gathering of old gypsies Karamysl
Into the well of a grown youth near the car

These are sayings of the courtyards, notes of the streets
If you do something, keep quiet, done, don't show off
Don't show your face, go away, think
Will the shredded trash find a trace?

These are sayings of the courtyards, notes of the streets
Be sure of the second, everything is in essence
From the train car, so as not to see the gray poles
Weighed, you see, beauty, make a theme

Katya from the accounting department tattooed on that topic
Lovingly gave it to the authoritative Valery
Twelve o'clock entrance from the courtyard, Lenin Street
Two doves with them, a bag stuffed with greens

Valera, carefully, with the support of an accomplice
At twelve o'clock, he was in the courtyard, on a confident
According to the description, two unremarkable losers
Fell into an old Citroen, doors slamming

A blow, the sound of broken glass, a second one in the beard
The driver of the thighs pissed on him, not Touched
Both of us, without use, for a moment
Everything was clean in our hands upon receipt

But the light goes out, the asphalt in Valera's face was betrayed
Katyusha's scheme from the accounting department was vile
The story is as old as time, beloved sold
Katya lit up her connection with the organized

These are sayings of the courtyards, notes of the streets
If you do something, keep quiet, done, don't show off
Don't show your face, go away and think
Will the shredded trash find a trace?

These are sayings of the courtyards, notes of the streets
Be sure of the second, everything is in essence
So as not to see the gray poles from the train car
Weighed, you see, beauty, make a theme