Текст песни Алексей Брунов - Истина

Am C
This city is called Moscow,
Dm E7
This street is like a narrow thread
Am C
This room is a keg of wine
Dm E7
And here comes a woman alone.
Dm G C
A chain of large beads between the clavicles
Dm G C
He tastes each one with his lips.
Dm E7
And tears off, like a drop from a leaf,
Dm E7
And she stands like a clean girl.

Is it the devil who invented her or God,
It was Pushkin who raved about her or Blok,
And to whom was it bequeathed for centuries
This dark, chiseled hand.
These brown sad pupils
All the bolts, all the locks were opened.
All palaces and all houses are subject to her,
It is the truth that comes into the house by itself.

And she was driven from the throne by kings,
They took ships around the world
Left to watch on the shore
A lie-homeless woman, a mischievous woman.
And she wrung her hands like rays
And tore the chains from the beads, from the collarbones,
And they lay down weighing the globe
On the straight palms of the truth itself.