Текст песни Владимир Высоцкий - Мы говорим не штормы, а шторма...

Am
We're not talking & quot; storm & quot ;, and & quot; storm & quot; -
Dm
Words come short and savory:
& Quot; wind & quot; - Not & quot; wind & quot; - Drive us crazy,
F E7
Uprooting of the decks mast.

Am
We are on the signs vetoed -
Dm
We honor flair compass and noses.
Elastic tight muscles wind
E7 Am
Pull the skin sails.

On the bowl star - authentic - Libra
White or gray Neptune decides the fate of our own,
And a pack of dogs, hungry Hunting Dogs,
Hoarse howl, drives us into the bowl.

We - the specter of filibustering corvette,
Swing in the constellation Libra.
And like a sharpened jet wind -
And the skin ripped sails.

At the rate - the shadow of another ship,
He was - and storms move without compromising.
Look - out hanging loop
The yardarm on poveshat bored!

With him came Providence cool:
Only the eternal calm - and interrupted the clock -
Tailwind if the devil has beguiled -
He finds no sails.

We think we hear someone call -
Mysterious clear signals ...
No desire for fame, races and prizes
Throws us on ridges and cliffs.

Come to know what did not know srodu -
Eyes, mouth and skin drink space! ..
Who sees in the ocean water only -
On the ground that overlooks the mountains.

Sing urugan we angry songs in his ears,
Under the skull and penetrates into the thoughts climb,
Leigh star rain, instilling in our souls
Land and sea sickness eternal!