Текст песни Ночные снайперы - Пороховая

My gaze is akin
with a smooth glass,
after which winter
from January clouds
crumbles white sand.
Anxiety crushes the temple.
How much smoke it took
from the exhalation of days
how do you want her?
And who would give me an answer
how long is the wall
from her to me.

Every stroke has long been studied
every rustle has long been studied.
My invisible old man
dries tears like gunpowder.
Replacing the window with the ceiling,
the pupil is stuck on a web.
You do not see how to the bottom
comes mine: "No, he will not leave."

On the dial number
arrows captured
this is the limit.
Day stumbled east
at the start and slept.
Take a nap for an hour.
But, thoughts and hearing
forgot about the dream -
waiting in unison.
Blind window
in his dumbness
repeats about you.

Every stroke has long been studied
every rustle has long been studied.
My invisible old man
dries tears like gunpowder.
Replacing the window with the ceiling,
the pupil is stuck on a web.
You do not see how to the bottom
comes mine: "No, he will not leave" ...

1994
Svetlana Surganova