Текст песни Никита Рогозин - Наша Коммуналка

OUR COMMUNAL

In our apartment, in the communal,
There are many rooms, every people lives here.
Both righteous and criminal
And, in general, different - and different way of life leads.

Well, for the most part, of course, trivial:
WORK-HOUSE-RODHOME-WORK-HOUSE.
Everyone is saving up money and dreams of major repairs.
And the rest - it doesn't matter, or later.

Then they move out, their children continue to live there,
And the same cracks are crawling along the ceiling.
No, no, I do not judge them.
I'm just stating the melancholy.

And in the room opposite: the marginals,
nonconformists and other homeless people.
They've got cracks there, you know ...
But they see a bizarre pattern in them.

Let everything crumble, hold it together - they do not believe in repairs.
Feng Shui is nicer to them than decadence.
They have never been to IKEA -
A spent mattress will do for them for love.

Of course, the rich also live here.
But I can say one thing about them.
They have their own duty, their own idea:
To distract from the main thing, a callou to everyone's eyes,

Separate shower and toilet,
The ability to piss and not stand in queues.
And now some imitate them, like idols.
The second send everything to hell
And they walk right under themselves.

Here no one remembers the names or does not know,
And relationships are built on other axes.
"That asshole plays music at night!"
"And after this bastard, a bath in your hair!"
"And this bastard eats for seven!"

Yes, our walls are thin, and this is a minus.
And yet there is one huge plus.
This is how you will hear how a neighbor moved a neighbor,
And immediately I want to say to my own: "I LOVE!"

There were times when they shouted: "We are tearing down the walls!
And we are building an awesome cottage! "
Project "Ilyich", project "Adolf", project "Joseph"
Or some other new age.

And so the creative people in our commune:
And dances, and draws, and sings.
Who needs all this? - to nobody, but ...
But still somehow brightens the oppression!

When the stench and cockroaches are all around
And nobody will take away the rotten borscht -
Yes, here long ago we would have gone crazy -
It's so good that someone is dancing and singing!
If only not about the fact that borscht is rotting.

So it was, so it is, so it will be, I know
Well, I'm not a romantic, I'm not quite cuckoo.
Therefore, I do not judge anyone -
I'm just stating the melancholy.

And the weather was raging outside the window!
Something alarming, I can't sleep!
I went out to smoke in the cold entrance.
And there he climbed into an abandoned attic.

What a beauty! Which things...
A dusty, but tuned piano!
In some chest I found candles
He sat down at the piano and began to play slowly.

Forgot about time, room, neighbors.
He wrote a sonata, followed by a sonnet.
I woke up only at dawn
When the wonderful light was spreading everywhere.

I thought I was delusional - I went to the window.
And there, in the sky, above the clouds,
I saw that just the sun was shining,
Over the walls and roofs of houses.

Now I will definitely not leave here.
I'm good, I'm interested here!
And if you, my friend, are not sleeping - you sit and cuckoo,
Then come soon to write the sixth symphony!
The attic is open and there is space.
But bring something to eat with you!