Текст песни Владимир Болотин - Автопилот

Autopilot (Vladimir Bolotin)
Saturday poisoned - and I have little grief,
I am a free pilot to fly, singing
About torn wings and winds in pockets.
I am with autopilot to fly, drinking.

Beautiful Saturday, with heights even better!
I'll throw a job long before the deadline,
And again, love and freedom will be alien.
But the sky is high ...
But the sky is high ...
But again - Saturday!

But time - but money ... But there is little grief
Say the aircraft on the green lawn.
Bedrooms - left, right,
And yellow leaves,
And yellow leaves
To face you, small.

Neither sound nor thoughts ... stupid, vicked,
Froze the plane before inadvertently
Lose the outlines like a thread of beads.
Touched - and there are no them
Touched - and there are no them
Neither wings, no aspirations ...

Poisoned freedom - Forgive me, Mom! -
I don't get angry for health.
The knees will creak like window frames.
To pray for them
to pray for them
But the wind is glass -
In the eyes of me fragments of hallucinations.