Текст песни Алексей Витаков - Посвящение А.Башлачеву

Darkness shakes the lights on the windows
And swallows the stars of the night like hungry.
Come on, motherland, drive me away!
Maybe I will need you, homeland?

Well, homeland, are you supposed to get used to it?
Howled compressed howl in chilled frost churches!
Salt at the temples of your grace
Yes, tanned woman's leather.

I'll go wake the ringers
Your widow's scalded milk
I'll go read the longing of the vacant lots
What lies between Paradise and Cain.

I'll go twist tails ghouls
And whisper at night with ashes.
I’ll set fire to the heels of October
In the transition for a dream I will drink with the poor.

I will go wherever my eyes look.
Where over the fall the sunset stood Calvary.
Just give me only one look
Only one - on the window with a children's profile.

Let me, motherland, go through the knife!
In a good-looking and patched rags.
Let me throw a handful of grain between
Between you and the future.