Текст песни Илья Кнабенгоф - Ночная прогулка

Jazz pours love and sadness
A thin knife into a glass.
After inhaling the layered dusk of the bar, I'll go out.
Tie lasso
Relaxing, I step along the streets.
Neon advertising glare
Spilled with paint in the puddles below me.
Slightly hoarse, unhurried conversation at the counter.
Step, another ..
Royal blues
Boats shakes in spotty water between bridges.
A sluice-clad dyke murmurs in Finnish.
The whole city is drowning in the bottom of a glass of whiskey.
The early Moon meows, fluttering across the rooftops in a light fouette.
Playfully blowing off the souls of the centuries from the windowsill.
And the night enters with a Mona Lisa half-smile
Raising the darkness with a guipure hem.
Cars go slowly along the pavement, like ships,
And time crumbles on the table under the ashes of cigarettes.
On wet sidewalks, cats hug cats with their tails,
Nobody sleeps, even though the shooter has already moved past midnight.
The trumpeter from the balcony merges notes into the clouds sadly,
The boy on the bench
He sat down, fascinated by his game.
Half a cup of coffee with milk, Indian wormwood cigarette.
She waves her hand on the deck.
Shaker aft
Whips up a mixture of green berths,
From oil stains on tankers and barges,
Diluted in half from Ladoga with coolness.
At the bottom of a granite glass, a drunken march
The cadets who escaped AWOL by snakes.
The stars are plague, the clouds are covered in blood.
And in this revelry-round dance I stand under the lantern.
I have nowhere to go.
My pencil is like a deaf conductor's stick
Glides over the arches of sneezing houses.
I'll write this night in pastel white, perhaps
And I will give you in the morning among the necklaces of dreams.