Текст песни Юрий Наумов - Пьяница Радуги

And the sun floated and fired with fire from a cut,
Burning the parchment of the face
I followed the sun
Cut off the sober world
I was drunk with a rainbow on a violet cut
There will be no end of madness ...
Cut his legs on the edge of divine tin,
In the depths of that night found,
He walked past torch marches
With a candle in the hand
To that river
From which only the channel remains ...
And in the morning he was still warm with a loop on his neck,
But the candle was burning
And wax, melting, walked at the mouth ...
What was a full house on the flame flooded with foam
And broad -shouldered faces
Firefighters whose hoses are almost longer than memory,
On the shelves of which is dusting
Forgotten book
That you miraculously found you,
But who then torn the pages?
And the sun clogged
With a successful pass,
Again came up in an instant
But a moment of sobering
Excepting my world dynamite,
He shook me down
From now on
Invisible thread
I am attached to the compass needle,
What is irresistibly beckoning
To monstrous power magnet
Everything is so painful here,
And everything is unrequited
Like wet gunpowder in a cartridge
Here the stars flicker,
As a symbol of the five cardinal points,
Including otherworldly
I think I'm an outsider
And snow flakes
Quietly rush in the wind ...
And day by day my music is getting colder,
And I am powerless before that
Once entered in the magnetic field of Russia,
That every second is stronger
And someone tried from here
Run after the sun
But everything is useless -
Probably in the blood here born
So much iron
Anyone - no less than salt
And the compass needle sticks into the veins,
Like a blade,
To warm me with pain,
Thus saving
From even greater pain
But I don't want to, I don't want to
I do not want,
I do not want,
Not these hardships
Not those benefits
But again, we drive a magnetized blood,
I am flying
To this entrance,
Forgetting forever, where is the way out? ...
And time, like a manager, flutters on my shoulder:
Wake up, maestro, your way out ...
There is only one way out:
This is the storm of the palace,
Where the heavenly vaults
Some fanatic will give me the name of the fighter
But my god, God,
What is the freedom?
There will be no end of madness ...
Unprofitable way out
Through that dimensionless collar,
Which is related to strings of parachute
Forgiveness is coming with an accomplished movement
There is a chair from under the feet, I ask!
Take my assurance
In reverence to you,
Accomplished, let it be imperfect ...
And someone from other shores,
Curiosity is drawn
Search for the truth in truly Russian,
Put a candle behind the drowned in a dried line,
From the blood suddenly becoming a river ...
And I, flying away, climb into heaven again
I will shake off sobriety forever
I am a rainbow drunkard on a violet cut
There will be no end to madness !!!