Текст песни Вячеслав Моногаев - Метрополитен

Cold Metropolitan
Under the severity of hot streets:
In a ring of blue letter "M",
And the doors with exhalation closed ...
And someone cuts out
Your palm movement,
And in a white and blue car
You are leaving for Arbat ...

Where the leader is a cheerful pedestrian
And the old clown crying loudly.
Where everything is known in advance,
And the score has long been paid.
Where among hundreds of korbali
My steps are no longer found.
Whispering you: "bold, bold ...",
And I hear - only the wind, the wind ...

The night seems to be a flock,
Enveloped other people's thoughts ...
And blowing fire,
I leave this pier.
And on your palms you
My happy tickets,
Like useless items,
Cold flames are burning.