Текст песни грязный тротуар - до надгробной плиты

Carefully close the door of my life forgotten
on this holiday, which I was not invited
not exactly have invited
I'm just a drop of rain smeared on the wall,
what you call time
viselnitse hung on cynicism and indifference
anhedonia to face procrastination
and trampled my personality.

Do you remember how we were singing birds
of silence and suicide?
We held hands with you falling down
the ocean confusing numbers.
Now, in the eyes of apathy more than Kafka,
Ian Curtis and Nietzsche.

Life - it is a short thread
from the cradle to the tombstone,
diluted dreams and plans.
And when you have your Acropolis,
no one will come, and lay flowers for him.
About you no one will remember,
How not to recall about January 4, 1971.
when the weather was pretty grim,
and at the Ural Railway Station at 4:00 am
He froze to death a young girl 23 years old,
just as you did not leave itself
no
track.