Текст песни Тимур Шаов - Случай в Кремле

I guessed the devil to be born to me in the family of intellectuals.
 Pity, compassion, I absorbed with milk.
 You will laugh: I feel so sorry for the president!
 Work is a dog, and there is no sympathy for anyone.
 
And power? What power? Chimera! The price of it is three kopecks.
 After all, plowing like a camel, you plow, like a galley slave.
 Neither go out for a walk, nor drink on a bench,
 With the peasants do not gulp, not to mention the women.
 
You stand on guard of peace, democracy, progress,
 You lose your teeth, your hair ... And your nerves are at zero.
 Human rights defenders and the Western press are silent,
 And he, as a prisoner of conscience, sits in his Kremlin!
 
Although I was never a dissident,
 He-hey!
 And then he decided: it's not good to be silent!
 I made the poster "Freedom to the President!"
 And he went to the square with Red.
 And he stood up.
 
I got up just in front of the Spassky Tower.
 He-hey!
 Beautiful, like Martin Luther King.
 It's not that I'm bad, not that I'm fearless,
 But I'm sorry for the man, muzhiks!
 
We have a country of state -
Suitable immediately ment.
 And zyrkaet eyes,
 And asks for a document.
 Mentoring
 Over measure with him.
 - I do not seem to be like Khodorkovsky?
 - Well, you never know!
 
Tara-ru-raach-touch-tach-commandant's office ...
 Indeed, a little what!
 
Take me oprichniki and directly into the Kremlin start.
 Well, I think: on the rack; all - jumped, rebel.
 But they do not seem to lead to the basement. They are leading to the mansion like!
 And he did not have a chance to gasp: before me is the Emperor!
 
It's great, "he says," a daredevil! " He put his arm around my shoulders.
 - You're right. It's not easy to be the head of all my Russia!
 I'm here carrying fire, like Prometheus, and everyone is pecking at my liver.
 And you stood alone. Now - whatever you want, ask.
 
Do you want to become a minister, or a general?
 He-hey!
 Or an ambassador in one of the warm countries?
 And you want, I'll give a name to the Urals.
 To him are three thousand souls of peasants?
 
Tara-ru-raach-tach-tach-nomenclature ...
 And I will give you money, just how much you take away!

I say: "I do not need lightbulbs, even skits.
 The name also does not need anything. And I do not need power.
 Now, if my wife had the same kind of cherevichki,
 What is your glorious wife wearing ... "
 
He smiled, said: "No, my wife will scold.
 Take it. And what? Or I am not I of all Russia? ".
 I look, he takes off the shoes. I look, the second shoots!
 And he says: "With all my heart! Like, he deserved it. Wear it! "
 
He presses a button - the referent comes in.
 And opens the daddy, hands the document:
 What, they say, for bravery dutiful such-and-such
 President's shoes are honorably awarded.
 And the monogram is beautiful, and the signature, and the seal.
 I say: "I serve Russia!" And what could I say?
 
Tara-ru-rach-tach-tach-tablature ...
 He went out to accompany me in his socks!
 
I wanna wear these shoes,
 I feel a karmic connection with him:
 All thoughts about the country, I sit, I worry ...
 And how I'll take them off, so I'll put on everything!
 
It's a pity, the little guy is too small - I limp in them.
 Called from the museum: they say, sell.
 I'll give them to my son - let him wear it without taking off:
 Suddenly become a man, go broke!
 
In the Kremlin, the whole night is on, the window is burning ...
 Would have rested, if only a little.