Текст песни Михаил Щербаков - Фонтанка

Instead of rotting in the wilderness,
holes to patch up, take a pittance,
it is possible, perhaps, for fun
something to do from the heart.

In the astonishment of the herds of the earth,
their pastors and all others,
say, to begin with the heights of the astral,
it is good to give them up to them.

Sitting on some plateau,
the sky is measured from and to
and conclude that the astrologers
they lied for ages that they were.

Or in vitro, as in the garden,
to grow new food -
and apply in place of the usual
or with the usual along.

Also not harmful, on a clear day
internecine hearing thunder,
in the plans of the warring to penetrate
telepathic way.

And having already discovered what's what,
bloody plague
prevent - and with a proud look
for espionage to go to jail.

Or really, to spite the authorities,
by cities and regions
march
each according to needs:

Here's to you, grandmother, Yuryev's day,
here's your hat, your bekren,
Here's to you, friend of the steppes and jungle,
your newsletter, dumpling, ginseng ...

The only trouble is that a friend of the steppes
happiness will find it sooner
by the miracle of some forces above the world, rather than my valor.

For example, not so long ago
The storm is unprecedented, as in the movies,
demolished, you understand, the Netherlands,
right now, completely washed away to the bottom.

And, naturally, everything around
immediately, barely passed the fright,
in chorus considered the whim of Neptune
the work of my unfortunate hands.

I'm talking about this storm and the squall
I did not know, I did not know.
I'm at this time on the Fontanka
in a white shirt went for a walk.

In my left hand was
provincial from the village.
In the right hand of my violet
smelled and blossomed.