Текст песни Евгений Лукин - Лирическая пронзительная

Life hits me like a shaft,
or plast that saber, -
if it's hard for me fucking
I'm running into the woods, fuck.
Not for a cinematic take
from the train of tears - and delirious, fucking.
And instead of crying and screaming
I whisper softly: "Nothing, fuck ..."

A heron will rise from the thickets -
even on the paintings of Constable.
I'll turn pale from my face, fuck
and be amazed at the beauty, fuck.
Not for a cinematic take
delirious past the swamp, damn it.
And instead of crying and screaming
I just think: "Wo, shit ..."

Swaying tender crowns
small pools of swell,
the wind will splash on the ground, fuck
with the freshness of the first thunderstorm, fuck.
Not for a cinematic take
through the edge of delirium, fucking.
But I will thunder to Grenoble
if you shoot for a movie, shit.