| You wake up as if there were no these hours
|
| Spent in colored oblivion,
|
| Today's cigarettes, yesterday's tea,
|
| Last year's snow, but eternal dullness
|
| Your feet carry you to those you never knew about,
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| Own - not their own
|
| There is not enough living, so any undead
|
| Humanized by you
|
| In accidental unconsciousness inside yourself, and there
|
| Airless and crowded
|
| Something gray is booming, knocking loudly and pricking with a needle
|
| Time is slowly dripping on the crown,
|
| The voice is loud and cracked
|
| I just want silence
|
| But you live until the night
|
| And only silence will sink you to the bottom,
|
| And on this day the window
|
| From that window
|
| Heard
|
| Only silence
|
| Cities come alive in you
|
| You are the master over them, you have a magic beard,
|
| At least you are Hottabych, okay, not God,
|
| You are only a miracle, not a miracle worker.
|
| Rise above, become...
|
| Darkness is no, hell is yes
|
| You
|
| Rearrange, replay
|
| Pretending to be the wind
|
| With the only difference, you are not a vector of addiction, no,
|
| But the source
|
| You exude current, you look - right?
|
| Like so.
|
| Rejoice. |
| Duc!
|
| To bend - from the word rot - you are convinced
|
| your spine
|
| Straight as a pipe, like Mayakovsky's flute,
|
| You are the best heavenly guide,
|
| plays in you
|
| Silence…
|
| Will sink you to the bottom
|
| And on this day there is a window, from that window you can hear
|
| Silence is lighter than light
|
| Will sink you to the bottom |