Текст песни Арс-Пегас - По полкам

Poetry is not dirt on a blanket
And not the plexus of young sweaty bodies,
Poetry - when you weren’t given
What I really wanted:
Love, wealth, understanding, glory -
You are locked in solitude aviary.
Poetry - that your tongue is rough,
Freezing to the swings in January.
Poetry is urgent
You fall asleep and the verse sinks into oblivion.
Poetry is stronger than all curses,
When they are talking about you.
Poetry will put everyone on the shelves,
And they will be happy - both genius and simpleton.
Weeding in the poetry garden:
I am the largest and most annoying weed!
... let them tear up the root of the echoing poet,
But he will have time to throw the seeds!
And know on the wreck of the internet
Our names will shine!