Текст песни Александр Пименов - Страна дураков

COUNTRY OF FOOLS

Iron trail in the rustling east.
Chicken makes his way unfriendly delight.
I broke all contracts, the agreements are terminated,
Free like sprout.

The wheels are knocking, like cloves of horseshoes.
North-south, to the state of fools.
I'm going there because he himself
I am kind as they, and stupid.

Rushed towards the birch fishing fishing rods,
Flashes under the embankment of a white belt,
And ripe raspberries filled with tusk,
And the house is not low, not high.

They live by the sea, and perhaps the river,
Your business does not climb, because fools,
They do not beat in the face - it can be seen, the hands are short,
Such fools ...

And the address is known and the handwriting I sign
And again on the envelope spend the language,
And I, telephone woken by call,
Seeking unknown about com.

The wheels are knocking, as if carnations of the horseshoes,
North-South - to the state of fools.
I'm going there because he himself
I am kind as they, and stupid.