Текст песни Кошка Сашка - Колыбельная

The third week of bad weather:
Wind storm a cold city.
Gray umbrellas, gray face,
In a whirlwind of rain drowned the capital.
White angel, wet feathers,
I especially they do not believe.
Autumn is racing in wet roof,
We flew higher and higher.
 
Chorus:
The sound of tears wet roofs
Hurry to sleep, my baby.
Once we can fly
Archangels good we did not catch.

What we sing is not difficult to see,
We do not want to offend.
The fear of Inquisition invented people
These fires - traces of our illusions.
You see, in the distance blazing fires,
The pools - the pieces of a broken guitar.
Good angels, white feathers ...
Sweetly singing, but, boy, do not believe them.

Pr.

Dark basement and iron doors -
Cut us wings for what we were singing.
Sad face on the red muzzle.
Net ticket - for lyrics and chords.
Circulations in the streets of the old,
Heaven Moscow floods fires.
We are driving on slippery roofs
And we sing, and take off all of the above.