I’ll go write something, maybe a book or maybe more than one
Silence or noise will create simplicity around
I'll open the window a crack to breathe in some air.
In this cramped, stuffy city you want to get your fill
And even those who started listening were surprised
The sounds in the speakers are yours, but here you are still in your mess
Bridges and a city that doesn't sleep at night
As on the first album, if it plays, then you are with us and we are with you
Well, if someone remembered, or maybe just a piece of paper
Take a measured step and circle around the backwater
Maybe it will make sense when you run this current through the wires
In short, everything is fine and everything is smooth as usual
We are not from the capital and it doesn’t matter at all to be honest
It's quieter here, here's my place and my dough
Maybe just take this notebook and throw it away, crumpling up the lines
Or just take it and give it to your son or daughter
So that in a hundred years they would listen somewhere and suddenly they would rock
And then, through time, the oppression of those very houses and entrances will be felt
Sleep runs his hand and coffee and these night lights
This noise, these lines near that very river
Everything here is nothing superfluous and nothing personal
It’s just embroidered in handwriting on a notebook
And I slowly continue to write this volume
Pass it on to my children, because very soon I will become a father
And here those entrances are attics, whatever one may say
Time machine at arm's length
I'm proud that I was born here, I'm glad that I live here
And this is probably why I stay afloat
And here those entrances are attics, whatever one may say
Time machine at arm's length
I'm proud that I was born here, I'm glad that I live here
And this is probably why I stay afloat
And my book has already been written in February
Read by a couple of friends and closest ones
There was something about a girl Lisa
And the story about Alexey Igor’s bastards is scanty
Thanks to those who are at least somehow interested
And I know these streets I feel, I ride my bike along them
Sometimes they will say (hey) "listen, don't poke your nose in here"
But if you're afraid of wolves, don't go into the forest, tell me, brother?
And to be honest, I was completely fucked up by everything here
Smog, winter, dirt, lost my cell phone in the cold
This text was woven in fifteen fucking minutes
And I spoil for them what Vitya told in three days
Better times will come, I believe in it
Dialecticians measure their small homeland with steps
And I won’t regret everything I tell you
Northerner and RT can only be covered honestly
And no other way
Walk through the courtyards, rent a time machine
And I am incredibly happy about this memorable moment
Painfully familiar square meters under the shoes
And here those entrances are attics, whatever one may say
Time machine at arm's length
I'm proud that I was born here, I'm glad that I live here
And this is probably why I stay afloat
And here those entrances are attics, whatever one may say
Time machine at arm's length
I'm proud that I was born here, I'm glad that I live here
And this is probably why I stay afloat
