Текст песни Кооператив Ништяк - Метафизика уходит

The black ghost of the Nibelung, the white ghost of the wolf-crow,
The scarlet ghost of Pythagoras. Whether it is few shadows at a gloom ...
Sleep at home, in a dream swinging, the mossy god of plants sleeps,
Bearded sleep walks through the ruby ​​universe.

Bums sleep in the darkness of the shelter, dreaming about a bottle of whiskey,
Lonely Nazis perished in feather beds.
In the half-asleep sees the figures alchemical Dmitry
In the closed system of the brain, the megalithrites are circulating.

Soak pilgrims by ashes, chewing on chaos
Screechy yellow claws from the grave of fierce Strauss
Someone's wicked ghost faded into the quiet of the subway,
Pope Roman darkness curtained violet counters.

He sleeps that he can sleep. Antique objects are flickering.
The space changes, in a hopeless dream is dressed.
The gloomy mind of the ocean arched a ghostly back.
The system is draining away. Fall asleep and you, club.

Nothing has changed, the world smells of cucumbers
The devil plays the piano, the brain under the wine pairs.
Paul creaks, amoeba dance, someone drinks my space.
Expand the boundaries of philistine rudeness.

Do I reflect this in the cloudy mirror of the earth?
Can this be seen by Krishna from a goat's hoof?
Or is someone just joking, blowing a flame in the stove?
The heart of a red maid flips on the griddle.

You see, there, behind the turn of the changed consciousness
The metaphysician from Kazan eats Saturn's lead
There are doubts in the face, piranhas like to scurry.
A moment of self-assurance of godly desire is terrible.

Dad, our beloved seine pulls to the shore!
Baby, hide in the bowels of the closet, stop pawing dead meat!
This is Pushkin, or Gogol. Damn them, hateful
The culture was ruined, the graves were disturbed,

They moaned moonshine, creaked cakes,
And they threw sandals into the void behind the clouds.
Are you happy, reader, to languish in unreality?
He collapsed from the oak, like an acorn, neither to rise, nor to get drunk.

The world is tired. An anxious old age. Dreams are somehow bad.
That will be the island of Easter, the crazy Russia,
Then the cop cockade unexpectedly dreams ...
Someone's faces, as if digging, someone's snouts, like faces ...

Metaphysics goes away, without it will wither.
The ego will dissolve peacefully in the acid of the troll stomach ...
The black ghost of Archimedes, the white ghost of John Dee,
The scarlet ghost of Azathoth. There are many shadows in the darkness ...