Текст песни Побережье - Похмельная

Hangover

Muses. A. Kuznetsov
Sl. A. Kuznetsov

Dark alleys, dingy
Stacks, with jokes, jokes,
Cheerfully on the fly rolled Moscow
And I remember on the Okhotny Row Kolbrodili
I remember I was in Otradnoe, I think
This summer my head hurts

And all of us we roll and we roll on small Старенькой
Vodka, and under the herring with cucumber.
And after the taxi, we'll get to the pretty Katenka
Or to someone with whom we will fall asleep

Later evening parties, lines
With memory full of thoughts
I'm sitting with a pipe by the window.
Or maybe in an old suede
Jacket me wandering around Moscow until dark
To the metro ... But whose fault is it all about?
     But the fact that
We roll and roll on the little Old
Vodka. Yes, under the cabbage with the spine.
And after all the same where we will be, we shall fall down.
Maybe back home again.

In the morning all water and kefir and breakfast
Cure, till the evening,
And then at least after us.
All would be so, but only something is changing
Too rare to meet
We are songs, replacing the meaninglessness of us.

And we would have an old port on the bench on Tverskaya Street
To remember everything that was and what is there to be sad.
And everything that did not come true with an orange thread
Tighten, forget about the bad, and live!