Текст песни Александр Башлачев - Час прилива

E7
The tide hour has struck.
They ran away and dived.
Who knew how - he sailed away.
The rest drowned.

   E7
   And we crawled away
                 G
   And lay aground.
                     E7
   We are on guard of honor.

Nobody needs us
And no one is looking for us.
The wave of yesterday's wave
Increases overall tone.

   We have time to spit on the clouds.
   Got time to fool around
   Under the record "Rolling Stones."

Hopelessly stupid
The idea to swim and swim first.
And we are our skulls
Open like canned food.

   Crawled in the sand
   And worms intertwined
   Thoughts, hair and nerves.

This is a dead season.
That is all we have left.
Sopor
Humiliating as old age.

   Five cents per cent.
   I am already impotent.
   And this is more than fatigue.

Ninety patches.
The blue jeans are white and white.
And our modest salaries
Enough for abortion only.

   But as before they ring
   And, as before, get drunk
   Primitive chords.

But the tide hour struck.
They ran away and dived.
Who knew how - he sailed away.
The rest drowned.

   And we crawled away
   And lay aground.
   We are on guard of honor.