Текст песни Вадим Фомин - последний выстрел

This last shot is heard at night
in anthracite sky extinguished stars
the meaning of life, that is mature, but, alas, not ripened
lost among everyday prose stamps
all the colors and shades of gray to merge
even tone of the inevitable withering
whether to extend the agony of ephemera
whether to push to the very last verge
illusory static relationship
isobars on meteokart world
just shot ... Last Temptation
for mature moral deserter
from far-fetched "higher" truths
and crucified illusions - a taste of a hangover
This night you will hear the last shot
and in the morning all traces sweep snowstorm