Текст песни Александр Непомнящий - Будущего Нет

On the eighth day of the week, stop dying
On the fifth south to love in poppy fields
Fall on crutches
To meet trains at farewell stations
Humbly fight against the wall with a proud head
Humbly do not want to ask for salvation
And feed the mother earth with herself as ash
About how cool it is to live in a small house
If the chalk ended, flying, yelling "Come on, let it be!"
From apple-tree to apple, to earth from earth
And diligently learn by heart the lesson
The first commandment of the religion of love:
There is no future

Crazy under the glances behind the thick glass
Lives in a beautiful country, draws on the walls,
In his child's shade covers his face with his fist
From hospital light on embossed veins
He is far from it and he better not know
Why are they pulled out of the page ending book
She happened to find it and so loved to read,
Suggesting that it was written by birds
Virgil, where is the sky? Why is everything darker?
They asked Vakha, but to me to the star
Let the dead be the morning of the muddleys
They do not understand the symbol of the faith of the religion of Love:
There is no future

To the edge of all the edges - only rain and gray
But beyond the sky the lightning is drawing a victory,
Drawing our little house, which is not
According to the owner, that our world is spinning,
Loving his laws - he was to me yesterday
And showed an account in full, and I stood at the wall,
But I stood and was silent, only my eyes laughed,
Like a glove with his hands, like a declaration of war
As a legend, like spring in October,
As the sword of Saint Khozrat, as the pancakes of the snow,
Like a fool in the sky, like a child's laughter at the stake,
As vice versa, as well as where we are,
As there is no future