Текст песни Вадим Фомин - 37 километр

Erron depoted, went out lights - the fast train went on the road
Potato in foil yes one hundred grams under the gulls ... knock of wheels and blizzard outside the window
and somewhere waiting for the 37th kilometer ... freezes in the thermometers mercury
there quietly ... only the north wind and snow over once extinguished fire

drunk tambour, words about nothing ... than rich, don't hope
Come on for acquaintance! where does it come from? What do you live? What are you waiting for fate?
On the 37th kilometer of the Purga, among the pines of the chest drifts
and somewhere far away disappear over the snowy wall Travel poles

fatigue ... that a sense in the answers, when the question is still incomprehensible
History loves repetitions - this is a whole packer of people
Only thoughts-premonitions rushed through the sleep by the crossroads of carriages
But few people knew that our destination is the 37th kilometer