Текст песни Побережье - Похмельная

Thymmer

MUZ. A. Kuznetsov
Sl. A. Kuznetsov

Dark alleys, puffs
Stacks, with booms, jokes,
Moscow rolled in the summer
And I remember on the Okhotny row of the collected
I remember turned out to be in the apologist I seem to
This summer has a headache

And we all rummage and rolling on a little old
Vodka, yes under herring with cucumber.
And after a taxi, we will give us to Millen Katya
Or before someone with whom we must

Late evening and lines
With memory filled with thoughts
I sit with a tube at the window.
And maybe in an old suede
Jacket to wander in Moscow to dark
To the subway ... yes whose wine in all?
And that
We robbed and rolled in a little old
Vodka. Yes, under the kale with the root.
And after all the same, where we will have to fall.
Maybe again to the house dragged on foot.

In the morning all water and kefir and breakfast
Recover before the evening reach
And then at least then after us.
Everything would be so, but only something change
We rarely meet
We have songs replacing meaninglessness of us.

And we would be old port on a bench on Tverskaya
Look all what was and what to be sad.
And all that did not come true orange thread
Tighten, forget about the bad, and live!