Текст песни Иван Говнов - На Пути К Безвременью

White walls soaked in geraniums
Leukocytes are ripe and chamomile wither
In hair and tart anticipation afterwards,
The shops closed and burned down under the moonlight.

Urban painting on cozy buildings
And inside the people on the sofas are drunk
And outside the wind and the skin turns black,
And below the time so similar has decayed!

A sacrificial step on the road to timelessness
Hisses and dies in time with the alcoholic foam ...

Frenzied springs are ripening under the moon
Loyal oars sunk into the sea
Paper and letters right at hand
That trembles with ash-stained sweetness.

The Russian soul was dying fleshy
When the trees were set on fire in a still water,
To think and hear is the noise of a fuse,
The river flowed into the sloppy valleys.

Good uncles built houses
And bastards with haryas, like girls
Ties ruled under bright perfume
Was it worth it to fall so low from falling.

Victim of midnight dancing over bonfires
Takes the seaport and dirty shirts,
Steel doors, steel views,
Gold paper, bold blockades

Flowers and geranium pots are worn out by water,
Someone laughs, someone laps up alcohol,
It used to be wooden, but it became rotten,
Pity and sing to those who do not sleep ...

Round dances of drunken affectionate children
Dripping with life from past deaths
Echo, echo and tight death
The brook is purple, it's not hard to die ...