Текст песни Propilli Propeller - Звездочет

Today a black astrologer will come to us
A black astrologer comes to town
And, having drunk the month with mountain ash on brandy,
He will steal the stars by hiding them in a cap.

A month, confused, will not find a way
A drunken month, lost, will fall to the ground
And it's time for the astrologer, hurry, hurry to the trains
Until the trouble came out, to other cities

And so he sits in a compartment, the train rushes south
He yawns tiredly and licks his mouthpiece
Without knowing where, he runs from someone
And if they ask why, he will remain silent

Tomorrow the stargazer will be consumed
Tomorrow the black astrologer will be consumed
But instead of bullets, stars will fly from the muzzle
And they will dissolve in the body, turning into air ...