Текст песни Мулат - Смерть поэта

Mulatto-Death of a Poet

A man died in the confinement of the muse
Without closing the century, the century vegetated in poverty
Seeing the sky through the cage of a notebook sheet
Alas, he always worked only for himself
Cigarette smoke around the whiskey bottle
He recalled how he died young
Mountains of crumpled paper withered ink
Muses left him and finally finished off
These sleepless nights came more and more
1 sip of alcohol seemed like a bowl of poison
How many torn paper of lost lines
It is not he who lives, but the soul of the person in him is dead
The mundane ate the tarred abode
Feeling the pain of the light he did not see
He did not know love, he experienced falling in love
To a dark ink sheet by falling in love with inspiration

Don't you dare the soul cried out to him
But her hand did not listen
Straight to live in the heart a pair of stabs
1 sigh a tear and the poet died

Don't you dare the soul cried out to him
But her hand did not listen
Straight to live in the heart a pair of stabs
1 sigh a tear and the poet died

The only story that turned out to be true
This is a dying letter to an already deceased mother
This is the last sheet of last words
Lord forgive me mom I love you
To whom he gave his life, he took it
He tore everything and metal, he broke fate
Feelings smoldered next to crumpled paper
He predicted the end with a rusty sword

Don't you dare the soul cried out to him
But her hand did not listen
Straight to live in the heart a pair of stabs
1 sigh a tear and the poet died

Don't you dare the soul cried out to him
But her hand did not listen
Straight to live in the heart a pair of stabs
1 sigh a tear and the poet died