Текст песни Владимир Ланцберг - Грачи

Rooks fly from the old bell towers,
They go black ashes in the wind, thinning ...
I'm a little tired and probably ill.
You certainly don't know that I'm in trouble again.

This is how it is in the world of the year and century:
There will be day and sorrow - the ghost of an eternal bed;
You will come and go without noticing anything
And thousands of miles away suddenly anxiety will seize.

It's too hard to get off the annoying circle:
Every hour, every year, up to minutes is lined up.
Maybe our kind won't be in time for each other, -
We do not expect otherwise and do not ask otherwise.

Rooks fly from old bell towers,
They go black ashes in the wind, thinning ...
I'm tired as hell and of course I'm sick
Only you won't know that I'm in trouble again.

1970