Текст песни Евгений Павлов - Дневник

I silently leaf diary
Forgotten by everyone
Motive tired retro
Flies overhead books.
Andante, four eighth
In the rushed completely hostel,
Uneven string on paper
Born thought in flour.

Like dust with yellowed pages
Hang out for kilometers
We, having mastered the backpacks,
We go under the creaking of the flooring.
And women in blue coat
No longer spread envelopes
In boxes, with light hand
We overdue accounts.

And we are dirty pych
As you first guess the shiny,
Just sand on the retina
Slowly erased by our relationship.
And we ask for a post
In heat and can not warm up
In houses where happy childhood
Barefoot walks under the table.

There in the window breathes a wasteland,
And completely rolling oblique.
On an old execution table
Left someone psalter
And lily of the lily of the white flower
Holy and unwashed Russia
Where everyone's forgotten poet
Everything writes about it between the lines.