Текст песни Ключевая - Драматургия

Playwright Arkady
No sleep at night.
He opens his eyes
A tear the size of a grape.
He heard somewhere on the radio -
The muse has a crossbar
Oh, how close under her
Playwright Arkady.

Playwright Proshke
No sleep at night
He opens his eyes
A tear the size of a potato.
He thought it was all for fun
But, here's an ambulance to him,
Oh, how are you upstairs
Shaggy brazen?

And to the poetry Eroshka
Matryoshka clap their hands
He's only in the casino
Lowers three rubles a night.
And he considered you a bipod
Ingredient in okroshka,
That's just, here, above,
Nobody hears Eroshka.