Текст песни Тито Арто - Улицы

thoughts in the trash are scattered like things in a dark room,
where dreams and mirages no longer go.
and until morning you open your eyes, you lie.
call in the morning and talk about how at home, how life is there.
forgotten numbers, blunt knives
and the rain is too much
breathing city, drunken choir

the streets are singing sobbing.
a little more and pass,
although it still hurts
and it will be the other way around -
story, speed, yellow news.

you pour the last desperate degrees down your throat
not from joy, not from fatigue, but to us
from the subway for about 15 minutes stupidly on the bus
and you swallow strong tea in a cold room
sugar free, the smells in the air melt fiercely
tea again, dead, tomorrow morning and new.
the main thing is that without traffic jams and smoke.
the main thing is that without traffic jams.

forgotten numbers, blunt knives.
liquor in the throat breathes the city.

the streets are singing sobbing.
a little more and pass,
although it still hurts
and it will be the other way around -
story, speed, yellow news.