Текст песни R.Kurbatow - Дети железнодорожных станций

I will write you
just do not take it, please, these lines in its weekly report.
now coming to an end my term
I cross the sky, finally, some reason to visit Bangkok.
you remember, and you know,
for me the plane.
fify brown-eyed and strange patter,
kilometers of screaming children, showing the middle finger up.
Turbulence as the first, absurd somersault.
and everything is constantly pray and cross themselves.
some even backwards.
heck.
There is nothing better than drunken conductors preparing awful tea,
package with pillowcases and sheets,
running the train us
uncomprehending that it separates us.
people selling icons and prayer beads,
Man reading "Three in a boat not counting the dogs."
the poor in the "general"
higher in the "suite".
crowded urban prostitution.
and money disappear from his jacket pocket.
There is nothing better than your hand on my back depicting the rails and sleepers.
There is nothing better than us -
children's train stations.