Текст песни Gardarika - Мертвый ангел

Cornet Obolensky was in the regiment
On account of a good one
The mothers of light considered him
An enviable groom
He often ran to Paris
And the meeting was not a fool
Cut into poker and bridge.

She was a bohemian poet
With consumption on pale cheeks
Priestess of free love, maiden of evil
Appeared to myself in dreams
Decline and death loving
In their transcendent verses
She called herself:

Dead Angel
in a wreath of withered daffodils
The dead angel is the most languid
of the fallen angels.

He loved her at first sight
Lost peace and sleep
Was ready to believe in the goodness of the graves
Once she believes it
Spit a table with her alone
Censer for the glory of Lilith
And inhaled cocaine

He quickly comprehended her science -
They also became relatives to him
Than sunshine and handiwork
Ruins and the kingdom of shadows
And now at your happiest hour
He was gifted at last
from her all-embracing caresses.

Dead Angel
in a wreath of withered daffodils
The dead angel is the most languid
of the fallen angels.

Returning from the maneuvers, he learned that she
Now the young banker's wife
And I owe him nothing more -
And the feelings of the past are empty words.
She was leaving for a fancy resort
And then - to Monaco, Paris and New York
Her world fame was waiting -
Ah, the dead angel is a black widow!

But the cornet believed that she would return,
Cherished hope and suddenly
I learned from the newspapers that I finally struck
Her chronic affliction.
And the sweet dream ended ...
A revolver lay on the table
And there was a cartridge in it.

Where are you angel
in a wreath of withered daffodils?
The dead angel is the most languid
of the fallen angels.