Текст песни МОДЕСТ - Дорога домой

Way home

Along the smooth surface of the glass in Pierrot's canopy
A sleepy butterfly is climbing up.
Push, stop, deserted platform,
Night, station, dim light bulb.

Disabled old man leaning on a crutch
stands, smokes, pauses ...
Bushes are guessed in the darkness,
barracks, barracks, warehouses.

The way home ... the way home ...

So quiet, to hear like in the next compartment
A match was chirped and thrown.
On the station building is inscribed "Pe -
Four hundred thirty "and so on.

Aboriginal in a smoky vestibule
Drinking, drunken and moronic.
Shaking the lantern in a smoky hand
a gloomy guard walks along the paths.

The way home ... the way home ...

And you smoke, and you freeze, and you hear a cricket.
And it seems - we are all exiles.
Horn, semaphore, trailer thunder, push,
A glass clinked in the cup holder.

The way home ... the way home ...
The way home ... the way home ...