| And you, guy, are from the past, right?
|
| I'm sorry. |
| Scars are even cute ... Really!
|
| Sorrow spins, burns with leaves. |
| The streets are silent!
|
| The streets are silent, the streets are silent.
|
| Sorrow spins, burns with leaves. |
| The streets are silent!
|
| The streets are silent, the streets are silent.
|
| These streets are silent about bygone days.
|
| The silence of the seal is silent there, the running row.
|
| Who will say what happened here yesterday, who survived yesterday?
|
| Who crawled out from the bottom and jumped higher than himself, who survived only crazy.
|
| Who is the elder? |
| Burnt boy -
|
| Authority, without a bazaar; |
| no match for dudes-youngsters.
|
| Son, be a share! |
| You are cool, yes; |
| but sit down here -
|
| Chew the gingerbread, drink tea and go to sleep.
|
| Ay! |
| The names are known, mister.
|
| Each of them in sports is formidable, frisky, fast.
|
| The avenue of streets is more mature than all of us, cooler.
|
| A gun in the hand, a bullet in the barrel. |
| Aue, and * uli?
|
| Anyone who remembers them will tell you "don't mess around, son."
|
| Put the glass on the table, you're full, don't drink, son.
|
| Be afraid of this husband at the counter, do not warm, son.
|
| Games with him are a ding and sleep, it was and swam away.
|
| The dead frame of the tachila is still rusting in the yard.
|
| How was it, tell me - I don’t remember anymore ...
|
| It burned down, as if with a car, everything. |
| Tell me,
|
| Who remained from the past and who perished in it.
|
| Who was killed, shot, strangled, blown up and sleeping for a long time.
|
| Who sleeps punctured, who sits for years.
|
| How many soldiers survived, and who pulled out places.
|
| The native of the bottom waited for the chance to fall and did it.
|
| Fast water of the river, years are thieves of dreams.
|
| Seeds sprout in an instant, a new formidable call.
|
| They look at both types, the streets are not the same,
|
| But they will test you one day, whoever you are!
|
| Romance sucks, I don't argue
|
| But do not hide from me already behind a wrapper of tailoring.
|
| For a long time, the dawn made me an adult,
|
| And they are talking about boys again.
|
| Sorrow spins, burns with leaves.
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| Sorrow spins, burns with leaves.
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| The streets are silent. |
| What do you hear, son?
|
| These streets are silent, but everyone remembers perfectly -
|
| Who really had weight, who stupidly took on a show off, *lyat!
|
| On the floor among the cool uncles.
|
| Go sit over there. |
| Listen and do what they say.
|
| While we were small, we were rubbing ourselves on sports grounds,
|
| The elders in the wastelands fought mercilessly for them.
|
| Hucksters with cops live in neighboring dorms,
|
| One lucky newborn, the other moved to the camp.
|
| The lanterns of the old park carry away that autumn -
|
| Broken fists, eyes, eyebrows and nose bridges.
|
| It was necessary to be in a serious nevminosis,
|
| To be an uninvited guest here, x * li, you are welcome!
|
| The first Lupaty Meren burned down behind the old farm.
|
| The owner failed to justify the credit of trust.
|
| Every day on the streets of these holidays and drama.
|
| One photo for memory, another photo for marble.
|
| Someone broke into people, took off, did not sink into the abyss.
|
| Someone like that, dumb chick, beer, McDonald's.
|
| In the past, a daring bastard, a thunderstorm of districts,
|
| Outlawed already, remembered the past, excited again.
|
| Almost native Talkov's voice from hoarse speakers,
|
| There are a couple of coupons from the local canteen on the table.
|
| I wanted to dial my old ones, but the subscriber is out of the zone.
|
| These streets are silent, but they remember old acquaintances. |