Текст песни Александр Заславский - Символика Слова

The symbolism of the word in the cooled sand
In the forest, in the clearing, the king jokes
May my blood be burned this night
Let your conscience be a pocket.
Let the margaritas fly in flocks into the shade
Let the cigarette smoke
Offended day shook his head
And he went out, dressed warmly.
Harsh shout and squeal of brakes
And the stop tap was cut off.
I'm not your passenger flow
I'm a decent boor too.
Silver hair cut and burnt
And the drunken guard froze
I lost a lot of cigarettes on the way
In that terrible, bitter frost.
There. There. Beyond the big river.
There. There. Where the king jokes.
There. There. On this new night
There. There. I will open the door.
For you!
And at that moment the decision came
And a partial answer was found
And it's already good in the trash can
And the violin is crying on my shoulder.
You take this brush and put it in your palm
And the palm turns into a buck.
Yesterday's flame burned out overnight,
But he's ready to break out now.
Beauty will save the world, and we will save beauty
And prepare for the blows of fate.
Touching fire, hugging you
In the wilds of this hard water
There. There. Beyond the big river.
There. There. Where the king jokes.
There. There. On this new night
There. There. I will open the door.
For you!