Текст песни Максим Цепелев - Счастливый билет

In the morning, an enchanted sleep,
The room floor littered with bodies.
Only one got up and went
And I pulled the winning ticket,
About which we have dreamed.
He went into the kitchen, he saw the sun,
He called all home, but no one woke up.
He jumped out of the window and remained in the wings;
And who was late for the tram - burned land feet.

Morning mystical snom-
One stop and the clouds.
He sat in a tram,
And only stayed on-
That cry of unhealed wounds.
And on the canvas on the grass barefoot,
Where father and son embracing, standing.

Morning of February the number of
Hang out in the loop upside down.
He slammed the door and left quietly,
Leaving a notebook with poems sick.
A mortal body, that outside the window,
Roll in the snow and laugh at us.