| They will only be missed by morning.
|
| Far from everything
|
| Three barefoot, three sleepwalkers
|
| We walked along the wire
|
| About one's own, about the unknown,
|
| The moon sang to them,
|
| And now they are being pursued
|
| Thought stubbornly one:
|
| "To the city of the moon, the world is insane
|
| Further, further from the earth
|
| To the lunar city, to the crazy world
|
| Our thoughts have been carried away
|
| Everything seems to them, everything is strange,
|
| As if their home is not here,
|
| And on the abandoned stars
|
| Above blue skies.
|
| They already threw stones at them,
|
| Yes, do not bring them down in any way -
|
| That will cover them with a cloud,
|
| That hand will break
|
| To the city of the moon, the world is insane
|
| Further, further from the earth
|
| To the lunar city, to the crazy world
|
| Our thoughts have taken
|
| Yes, and a joke, and a joke with them -
|
| Far from everything
|
| Three barefoot, three sleepwalkers
|
| We walked along the wire
|
| To the city of the moon, the world is insane
|
| Further, further from the earth
|
| To the lunar city, to the crazy world
|
| Our thoughts have taken
|
| MY HOUSE ON TWO LEGS
|
| My house is on two legs
|
| Tightly wrapped in leather
|
| The walls are like strings.
|
| Composed by the power of the unknown,
|
| My house is on two legs
|
| As if staggering from the wind,
|
| And if it falls, it doesn't count
|
| And if it falls, it doesn't count.
|
| But somewhere
|
| In a beam of light
|
| my angel is playing
|
| Buzzing, groaning,
|
| Strangers drives
|
| Caravanserai,
|
| Caravanserai
|
| In my house for the watchmen
|
| Ordered to be alert
|
| On bone floors
|
| Red rivers flow.
|
| The walls will hear me
|
| Hide everything wild, dark,
|
| All that was hidden then
|
| In distant lost rooms
|
| But somewhere
|
| In a beam of light
|
| My angel is playing.
|
| Buzzing, groaning,
|
| Chasing strangers...
|
| Caravanserai,
|
| Caravanserai…
|
| My house is on two legs
|
| Tightly wrapped in leather
|
| And on the asphalt there are traces
|
| The morning rain will destroy.
|
| My house is on two legs
|
| Toiling along a new road
|
| And if it falls, it doesn't count
|
| And if it falls, it doesn't count...
|
| But somewhere
|
| In a beam of light
|
| My angel is playing... |