there is no stigma
then a lot of things , but
almost all unclear
to something indulgent ,
something vaguely
our indifference is unlikely to be less than
sometimes even a dead body quickly obbegat
With a desire not to see , close your eyes
Renouncing the truth
So much more convenient
Not colitis, undoubtedly in the tranquility of a sleepy
heart groan noise will not disturb
drink bromine
cozy cocoon wrap up
in the mirror, confused moment ,
smile and sleep days , the morning comes
Water flows, its cool true
was somehow just okay
and underpayment in the form of conscience,
like a handkerchief , forgotten on the bus
That's the way we carry it in principle
Well nobody will ask pardon all such
and you do not hide the things in life reset
you indifferent spectators
simply viewers , theater dramas Visitors
and have not seen anything ...
See viewers see a new picture ?
we're trying to get us heard the crowd
all microphones with a smile on his knee
someone left who package it for the right cause
ole , earth, yet we seem to regard
we type " from rags to riches "
now throw their phrases
trying to make something of their own ,
but our theater is more like a scary movie
and here it is again in the chest sounded muzlo
I swung , then it was somehow cool
okay in Russia is no stranger to the disadvantages
I will continue to write the script for the crowd , and again turns me into this turnover
Gray left right Mines endure my brain
but it's all from the heart fucking with brotherly affection
we are not the ones who wear these dirty mask
Bolshoi Theatre - large stage
This poem from the heart of a big city
lights here somewhere somehow
Do not hurry , wet feet , poor plot
not present here the main roles,
but many minor
locked with a password , siding with podebom ,
wretched end , there are many die or turn off all the lights at once , the rains flood the whole scene