Текст песни Голос Омерики - Про Поэта

Deserted streets, night descended on the city
I alone can not sleep, I'm young and inquisitive
And I - a poet, writing poems, folding lines
And for an hour already sitting on blank leaf

Here is a question about what to write in the 21st century
What can flutter in the new man?
In the summer sunk long arrows of Cupid
And do not write about the same shit, flash and iPhones!

I wonder if he lived in our time, Pushkin,
What would he then wrote a fiery girlfriend?
Sorry Natasha say, can not come
Chapters. editor sat astride - fucking dandruff!

And Dostoevsky to the penny machines used merged,
Gogol would have to porn sites on the death obdrochilsya
Ohuel would ponds Mikhail Bulgakov
From the fact that there are witches and ghouls shodnyak

Yeah, that, do not say! The world turned upside down!
Mozart himself would be in a tavern vodka travanulsya,
El Salvador so in general, well, the fact that Dali
In the transition mustache pizdyuley would give!

Well, that goes around the world hardened poet
There is no longer martial affairs, and Assol no!
There is no love like a Finnish knife smote brothers
With no one to fight mill windy!

And about that time to write, if you do not about it?
What to look for inspiration? Damn well no!
No zapisochek the window and songs under the balcony ...
So I will shit about, flash and iPhones!