Текст песни Виктор Верстаков - Застава Ильича,Платформа Серп и Молот

And blood is no longer hot
And the Spirit is no longer young, -
And suddenly "Zascha Ilyich",
Platform "Sickle and hammer".

Random wind brought
Service care.
And maybe time wing
Tired of flight?

Pound a palm about fist
In a meaning rage:
Where I am not known how,
without looking back even?

Moody cramped pavilion
With a tricky tin stove ...
Let him not survived, -
I will point the place.

And how the wires riot
Over the pavilion it!
How we wondered in those years
Who will meet in the country!

Farewell, "Ilichoza",
In the last train
shoulder touch shoulder
Red with unaccustomed.

In that winter, nobody
did not drive to the cottage.
My chinel, your coat
Shet stone in addition.

Did not fall asleep for no hour
not yet knowing, sort of
what's ahead of spring
What summer is on the approach.

And if it was so -
And so it was! -
Why my palm is about fist
Well, what will power?