Текст песни Поэт без усов - Скрежет жизни

In the life of the escape,
Wrapped in rags woven from experiences of the past,
Overcomes the dependence on comfort.
The feeling of breaking the shackles.
According to avoid homesickness will not be difficult,
But Moscow I dissolves.
Part to be something huge, immense.
Only I have not invented the function.
I am here as an outside observer,
Phantom hanging around the streets.
A string of people to me magnet,
So many lives and each awry
There is a desire, but I for them only a moment -
A man who does not come to pass.
I look at how rapidly
Brooks woven into the river.
Users drops, people filaments.
People with the prefix "under".
Megapolis you have taken away.
Megapolis on human
Do not leave any bones or hryaschik,
Peremel millstone subsoil.
You think up to preserve themselves as,
Or surrender to the flow.
There is no difference - be a needle
Or in the depths of hay stacks.