| Hungry shame. |
| Satisfied passion.
|
| Dynamite and fuse in your ass!
|
| Raw matches dress up in black smoke.
|
| An hour later, it's a mess. |
| In two - bedlam.
|
| At dawn, the temple will shatter into rubble.
|
| But we don't wear watches.
|
| We don't want to die
|
| And that's why we don't even sleep.
|
| And when there is not enough strength,
|
| We steal sugar from other people's graves.
|
| And into the blood with boiling water
|
| We squeeze the lemon of sin.
|
| And leaky buckets start songs
|
| About holy water and their illnesses.
|
| But — thank God! |
| - all this will disappear
|
| With the first cock crow.
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| Smoke hung over us.
|
| The lamp has gone out.
|
| And in a puddle of oil
|
| floating bird fluff.
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| May God let us understand
|
| whatever the rooster sings.
|
| In new buildings - glass containers
|
| We suffocate from intoxication
|
| Under the howl of patrol sirens in the pipe,
|
| In the dance of blue coals.
|
| Who are there - angels or ghosts?
|
| We take food from any hand.
|
| We can't go
|
| Because shit
|
| After this meal, like glue.
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| The musician is still blind
|
| the sniper is still deaf.
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| Smoke. |
| Smoke rocker!
|
| May God let us understand
|
| whatever the rooster sings.
|
| About the lack of fish in the rivulet that the cat cried!
|
| Today any frog becomes cancer
|
| And putting two fingers in your mouth,
|
| Whistle on Bald Mountain.
|
| Tear off the web! |
| There is something dirty here!
|
| But with bayonets in the back - prickly numbers,
|
| And the roar of engines in the stalled calendar.
|
| And smoke. |
| Smoke rocker.
|
| Smoke rocker.
|
| Smoke. |