Текст песни Гатиятуллинъ - Кому нужны твои стихи

Who needs your poems?
In the boiler of human pofigism,
Cut out
People are ready with all cynicism.

Cutlets, flies, even dreams -
Play everything in the same orchestra,
And the viewer that
Sourling, twitching the ring.

And life as if for the dawn,
From year to year one story -
Dreams lie on the same landfill
Like a rusty pasturgecle.

Where the rock events carries
In the face of it will give for all sins,
Stuck everything in the marsh life,
Who needs your poems?