Текст песни Остролист - Поэт Гораций

Caesar seeks the glory of the world, Cicero - words for glory,
Only the poet Horace is right - this is stupid fun.
Someone catches a bird in the sky, someone considers caught,
And Horace is having fun - he catches the day and knows no troubles.

Dust blowing into the skies, people torment the roads,
Mold flies from their tongues - their songs are quite wretched.
Life's old pages fill with this nonsense,
And Horace is having fun - he catches the day and knows no troubles.

So, pretending to be wolves, sheep wander until they are slaughtered,
And without understanding prayers, they whisper spells to God,
To get drunk with time, it is not known where wandering,
And Horace is having fun - he catches the day and knows no troubles.

And walking in orbits, we leave a trail everywhere.
Only this card is a bit - both you and the trail will be forgotten.
Faces are already tired, only the mask does not peel off,
And Horace is having fun - he catches the day and knows no troubles.