Текст песни Андрей Земсков - Трубач

I still casts a shadow, - means
I still live. And how there be more?
Beyond the river the red squadron rides,
And the pipe does not feel is hypocrisy.

The voices on this side of the world
They call voice from the other side of the world.
If we did not know the song of the lyre,
We used then did not call coming summer.

With the sting of losing their lives and no pity for the bee -
Hence, the alarm - at times the pipe.
Blow, trumpet player, do not let accumulate rust here,
The golden throat of his pipe - in the socket!

Roknrolnoy song to tear the heart!
Golden rye labored, the field!
I'll be out in the night to smoke in the porch,
I think of the lost will.

A hooves resounding knock closer:
River Squadron jumped on the move.
Roofs flame red tongue licking.
Not given, trumpeter, you play code.

The young tribe for money boa
Made in USA - on all four sides.
They teach us how to bow down to the ground -
Only here to whom? Icons all thwarted.

In the garden beveled body frightened,
my childhood sleeping under the leaves of cabbage.
I take, I cast a shadow in the corner:
With her it was easier, but where to go?

The squadron dashing disappeared without blower,
It blossomed on Red Square mold.
Shadow is in the corner, laughing at my back.
I'm going to look for traces of horseshoes songs.

Geese fly south, they have no time.
Pigeons coo and cocoa from heaven.
If the trumpet does not become me, then
Give something, a smoke before the attack!