Текст песни Артём Стрельцов. ст.Аркадий Кутилов - Поэт

You will die in an hour, noillion later!
The fountain pen jerks will spin on the sheet ...
Your last chalk you sell more expensive,
And the secrets of love do not take the darkness.

Doomed to chests and cottomits,
That the black day passed the head.
You will die in an hour, so leave the same descendants
All words-gems, emerald-words ...

So that the rash was racing, so that screaming the crurch,
So that rushed in verses pristine copper! ..
If it is a sorry for the Slavs and Metaphora sorry,
Look at the clock:
without fifteen death!