Текст песни Унесенные ветки - 340-й

Late lay down, got up early
Ran to the station,
Not a stranger, and not your
340 minutes
We did not take the bed,
Conductor-corncrake.
Standing drank "Agdam"
For the presence of ladies.
Black children, black tea,
Waiting for the arrival of the doctor,
Waiting for the collection of medicinal
As the final chord.
I change places
Commemorate Christ
When pressed against the wall
Collector harvest.
Ston iron wheels
In the air drove vitriol,
Raskolnikov carried
Two bags of someone's tears.
From the bag to the prison,
From wall to wall.
In the nightcap silence
Feast in Time of Plague.
I left the car,
And he stepped onto the platform
I went out of the
Spirit, that I was captivated.
Exhausted, angry,
I cursed fate
Not a stranger, and not your
340 minutes
A quarter-century later,
I walked in the ways of
On the platform, where he was on-
My spirit has left out.
On the roads dusty,
I started from scratch,
Othmer steps
Not myself, but others.
I was part of your car
At gunpoint shoulder straps,
Fell prostrate zarydal-
That's the starting point.
Ter pectoral his cross,
And ask the heavens
So as soon drove home
340 minutes