In St. Petersburg, the subway opens exactly with the arrival of the train in Tallinn,
I keep my backpack, as if Kangaroo from Australia, so did not stole
After all, I do not trust you, because I do not trust you.
And the whiskers of the guards remind that this is not in vain.
In a backpack, nothing but crumpled thoughts and astounding knowledge,
In a backpack, nothing, only old matches and a ripped RZD ticket.
And there is nothing to take, but I'm not going to share the secret with you,
Your greedy glances fall on them, like Baban Boktok Rzhv
I loved the atomic bomb with this summer, as a cube cube my hands will refuse me
Turnstiles rusty like a water valve,
And how the Yebany horses rushed children.
Grandma in a skirt, swaying as a corpse, turns the crash of a thousand clock,
That's where the city's slush is saved on its dimensionless chosen ass.
The rain washes off the problems with me, like with vegans cow blood electric Supreme Mature Mature Shampoo from Organic-Shop`a.
The young man on the guitar screams the composition of Viktor Tsoi,
I like it, the little thing rings, the change clearly requires my heart.
And this shit with me even tropical shower will not be mocking,
Grandmother in a bubbling dustwater and he throw her in a hat
Running on escalators Students jump like monkeys on ropes
There I keep my backpack as if kangaroo in Australia, because I do not trust you
After all, I do not trust you, I do not trust you.