| What kind of spring force lured me today
|
| At the corner of the Kuznetsky bridge,
|
| People get old and stones get old, but stones get old
|
| Significantly fewer people.
|
| And among these stones ten years ago
|
| To look back, to return to me mentally is simple.
|
| Step beyond the gate into the yard on Zhdanov street,
|
| To the house where I lived for two thousand days.
|
| The same bazaar at the fountain, tobacco smoke,
|
| The same topics, conversations and the same routines,
|
| The same intoxicating intoxication of communion
|
| To the secrets of art, which is higher than time.
|
| Only now the boys' hairstyles have become shorter,
|
| The patches on the jeans also disappeared.
|
| And instead of a chicken foot and the inscription "Beatles forever"
|
| On the walls: "Spartacus is the champion"
|
| I know nothing will come back
|
| An evil heart beats in the clock,
|
| Only sometimes will respond
|
| sun
|
| Something eternal in us.
|
| Where are you now, my school brothers and sisters,
|
| We were all swept away on our edge,
|
| They serve in offices, participate in competitions,
|
| They make exhibitions, honestly support a family,
|
| Only now I still play the guitar,
|
| When it ends, the right to know.
|
| And playing this song, I remember you all,
|
| And I miss you a lot, which means I love you.
|
| Less and less often I get to you, but I do not suffer,
|
| From the burden of sacred duty.
|
| Say, he went to the stage, where the salary is higher,
|
| Broke with our brother, which means not ours.
|
| We have all been taught the secret of creating harmony in the world
|
| And, apparently, this is for a long time -
|
| You will prime the canvases, I will tune the guitar,
|
| And someone has already sharpened the pencil. |