Текст песни Михаил Щербаков - Пешком с Востока

Walking from the east seeking to south,
I look at how all around
fire burns bright dawn,
so beautiful that even die.

Chagall forest. Inhales honey.
And on top of feathered demon mob
roulades throws leads Chorale:
"Die Another Day - chirps, - the time has come."

Brad fields. Tonu in the stubble.
And the villagers after me
murmur gently softening the focus:
"Die Another Day, of course. Such a moment. "

I went into collective farms. I look in the corners.
Towards the goats. Oxen. Donkeys.
And all - death. Some nonsense.
Believe it or not.

Then they just hear the river I:
"Error out. Alas, my friends.
Your mad cry. I am with you amused.
After all, I died. And for a long time. "

They are silent in this response.
They have no answer to this.
And salute (good-bye, they say)
I go further. Where and went.

Scourge on arable land that your Secretary General,
high towers spitting at all.
Sunrises brezzhut. Strada gudёt.
Dogs yelp. Yes tooth itching.

That this day, tomorrow, my soul,
from the brontosaurus to the nightingale -
there is nothing new in your hell:
in the beginning - the Word, then - the court.
Shut up, nemotstvuy my soul.
Eked out a campaign, my soul.

1991