Текст песни А. Чистов - Купальный сезон

The sea sleeps after a drunken storm on a cool night
And dry foliage falls into the rippling Azov.
And the lame minister collects the keys for a bunch,
Closes the bath, the bathing season is over.

Boarded up a souvenir booth with a damp board
The horizon lies there like a white stripe.
And the lighthouse, like a one-eyed Cyclops, lit up with longing,
And to him, singing along, they sing the voices of ships.

Only two walk along the beach, bogged down in the sand
Far from each other along the water's edge.
He carries her wet cold swimsuit in his hand
And the surf, as if in collusion with a secret, washes away the tracks.

And they both wander, they are bitter
And they walk in silence, not afraid to be late.
Silence, emptiness, only the train knocks goodbye
And the ticket clerk leaves to hand over the proceeds.