Текст песни post haze - Ночь. Улица. Луна

Become better today than you were yesterday
And still remain the dust of only memories
Sitting in the kitchen, freezing in the summer in the morning
Surrounding yourself with insensible concrete buildings

At the crossroads of years, our compass will shut up
Stopping once - do not believe themselves
The moon on the canvas of the constellations is not sleeping
Cold gaze looks through the trees

Urban landscape from my window
Can only make you smoke and vomit
Unscrew and knock out, sniff out and squeeze out
Shut down and fly out, forgetting it all forever.

In raw twilight will die the last glare of the day
And I'm among the indiscriminate interjections at the station
Among the rotten and shapeless shadows
Among the spat upon all truths that we knew
Among where you are nothing
And among those where you are nobody
I am there..
Among the underground passages where Hades would get lost
There, where the Lord dies and in the cause of death
it is written - shame.
Along the dark office boxes of buildings
Where every evening a cemetery of unfulfilled hopes
I go again .. Alone .. Wandering
And I know for sure that everything will not be the same
I try again ..
Feeding on the night air of deserted streets and courtyards
Queuing up for moonlight, present a ticket
Seeing the reflection of marble columns
Sadly reigned away from the roads.

Meeting the red sunsets .. And the pale sunrises
Beautiful shots flickered. Century flown away.
The cold night will put everything in its place
And from her breath, only the whirling leaves of rustling will prompt me
How I justified the insolvency of my Christ
His limit of good, it seems to me, has long since dried up
All has dried up, all hope has dried up, every atom
I really believe ..
After this spring comes again
May spit out the greens under our soles
I'll go to the window, see the same picture.
It's a sign..
Which will bring to the morning cold shiver
And everything will seem like in dreams

Night lanterns drooped
They are sad about everything they see
Not enough epithets
After all, each lamp asks the answer
About my turn
Blighted, ruined years.

And the early pinkish-muddy morning falling into prostration
My night dreams flow slowly through the carotid artery
Fully filling the space
I've lost track of time
But I also clearly remember how then
Night .. Street .. Moon