Текст песни А. Иващенко, Г. Васильев - Натюрморт

Colored wall calendar with a portrait of a young artist,
And a heap of ash on the floor, and midnight behind
And all night ahead, and two fried sausages,
And a cockroach, and not one.

Alarm clock old without glass and new with a gilded arrow,
And white snow on my hair - traces of a gray winter
And ahead of the dawn, and two unwashed plates,
Ah, who would, who would wash them.

And twenty-eight new lines, like a flock of pigeons in their cage,
And a thousand nights other than a tornado overhead
And all life ahead and two scribbled napkins,
And that's all, and nothing more.