Текст песни Леонид Фёдоров - Баньщик

My custom is monotonous:
I'm sitting like an owl in the ceiling
And the fucking smoke
Bullish air
It stands above each bowler.
I foggy smoke
Darkness prey
I must be the whole thing.
The stoves flicker
The candles fade
Ruthless steam is burning.
Amid wet bunks
Your shoulders turn yellow
And a new and harsh battle
The broth is already being prepared.

They’re looking for a broom,
looking for money
they’re looking for a broom
looking for money.

Here the greedy catcher became.
Prowl in the darkness
Howl, whistle
Father and rider and swimmer.
And the smoke sways like a beggar
In a godless gloomy home
Where on behalf of all the scoundrels
A cloud of the dead flies.

They’re looking for a broom,
looking for money
they’re looking for a broom
looking for money.