Текст песни Эдуард Шакуров - Журналист

In general, we did not write with you,
But they were so sometimes passionate.
For that we did not hang medals
And the orders of the incomprehensive country.
Let us leave now the pain of my doubts
About brevity we sing without unnecessary words.
You know here not everyone is recognized as a genius
And the widespread roads of fools ...
And, wide roads, fools ....

Journalist, write,
Without cravings and lies.
Natochy Feather Pen
And open the human nutro.

Journalist, journalist ...
Bitter white Lacmus leaf.
What you write do not take an ax,
Well, the word is most expensive.

We are all the great geniuses descendants
In the shadow of Alexandria Pillar.
We create art of debris,
A row is born from garbage.
And in the flour of many creative quests,
There is one answer to all questions,
In Russia, God is the cornerstone,
The poet in Russia is more than a poet.