Текст песни МиТиНГ - Последний приют

Empty road and the spectrum of xenon will turn night
Five hundred horses and gas up to the stop slightly pripodnimut hood
And there is no doubt that we will have time until dawn at the airport
There awaits a flight attendant, a magazine Princess, yawning lazily pilot

We rush, we rush to New York

And then everything just
Paris, London, Oslo and Tokyo-red sunrise
Old buildings
catarrhal sneezing
Send us more hiking
Our runny facilitate
mulatto Spain
This is a little-dolechit in Italy

We rush, we rush to New York

He greeted us timidly, huge traffic jams
And a woman with her liberty
Coming in Manhattan, snorting fear and burn passports with visas
Take a gun and red corvette, which we umchit south
The silicone country, casinos and neon,
Lost souls there last refuge
And there we have long been waiting for