Текст песни Whining сhild - бетонная тайга

concrete taiga,
stone trees with personal numbers to the traveler is not lost.
River - line.
birds forgot their lyrics.
I - a local resident of the forest. I - a hermit.
They say there are people here, but I have not personally seen.
in my hut foul air is drawn through the plastic window.
Water lost the taste of life.
Out on the street I walk through the depression of panel houses. on each wall with a dozen stories of pain and suffering. about how there lived a boy, about how his mother loved and could not imagine that this boy with the age of the house will bring a lot of grief.
about how there lived a girl for intimacy and love, that the girl told her grandmother poem. about how the girl began to sell their affection and love.
deep puff replace me breakfast. My journey started a long time ago. together with his command came to cigarettes, alcohol later, and with it the long-dead poets that so firmly inscribed their lines in my memory.
each of them illuminates my way, and talks about his difficult fate. that it is not necessary to go into a loop pre-cut veins.
in the subway, I'll catch a nice look and smile a sweet girl, but I could not smile at her. my lips are no longer subject to me. my smile died.
headphones again will carry my thoughts flow in absolute darkness. it's scary when you may not think about anything. scary when you're nothing to dream, scary when you do not have goals, and your every new day was yesterday. day after day. year after year. life carries me like a subway car, somewhere far away and under the ground. figure in the passport more on allowing me to believe in miracles.
I do not want to move forward, what else? a dozen betrayals? a thousand tales of inseparable love? no. Thank you. I'm over it!