Lyrics Аквариум - Истребитель
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Снежный лев (1996)
Б.Гребенщиков
Расскажи мне, дружок, отчего вокруг засада?
Отчего столько лет нашей жизни нет как нет?
От ромашек-цветов пахнет ладаном из ада,
И апостол Андрей носит "Люгер" пистолет?
Оттого, что пока снизу ходит мирный житель,
В голове все вверх дном, а на сердце маета...
Наверху в облаках реет черный истребитель,
Весь в парче-жемчугах с головы и до хвоста.
Кто в нем летчик-пилот, кто в нем давит на педали?
Кто вертит ему руль, кто дымит его трубой?
На пилотах чадра, ты узнаешь их едва ли,
Но если честно сказать - те пилоты мы с тобой.
А на небе гроза, чистый фосфор с ангидридом.
Все хотел по любви, да в прицеле мир дотла.
Рвануть холст на груди, положить конец обидам,
Да в глахах чернота, в сердце тень его крыла...
Изыди, гордый дух, поперхнись холодной дулей.
Все равно нам не жить, с каждым годом ты смелей.
Изловчусь под конец и стрельну последней пулей,
Выбью падаль с небес, может станет посветлей...
The Snow Lion (1996)
B.Grebenshchikov
Tell me, my friend, why is it around the ambush?
Why so many years of our life there is no way?
From chamomile flowers smells of incense from hell,
And the apostle Andrew wears a "Luger" gun?
Because, while a civilian is walking down from below,
In my head everything is upside down, and the heart is a puff ...
Above in the clouds a black fighter battles,
All in brocade pearls from head to tail.
Who is the pilot pilot in him, who presses him on the pedals?
Who turns the wheel, who smokes it with a pipe?
On the pilots of the veil, you will hardly recognize them,
But to be honest - those pilots are with you.
And in the sky a thunderstorm, pure phosphorus with anhydride.
I wanted everything for love, but in the sight the world was utterly utterly destroyed.
Tear canvas on his chest, put an end to the insults,
Yes, in the eyes of blackness, in the heart of the shadow of his wing ...
Go, proud spirit, choke on a cold barrel.
All the same, we do not live, every year you are bold.
I will contrive to the end and shoot the last bullet,
I'll pick the carrion from the skies, it can become shorter ...
B.Grebenshchikov
Tell me, my friend, why is it around the ambush?
Why so many years of our life there is no way?
From chamomile flowers smells of incense from hell,
And the apostle Andrew wears a "Luger" gun?
Because, while a civilian is walking down from below,
In my head everything is upside down, and the heart is a puff ...
Above in the clouds a black fighter battles,
All in brocade pearls from head to tail.
Who is the pilot pilot in him, who presses him on the pedals?
Who turns the wheel, who smokes it with a pipe?
On the pilots of the veil, you will hardly recognize them,
But to be honest - those pilots are with you.
And in the sky a thunderstorm, pure phosphorus with anhydride.
I wanted everything for love, but in the sight the world was utterly utterly destroyed.
Tear canvas on his chest, put an end to the insults,
Yes, in the eyes of blackness, in the heart of the shadow of his wing ...
Go, proud spirit, choke on a cold barrel.
All the same, we do not live, every year you are bold.
I will contrive to the end and shoot the last bullet,
I'll pick the carrion from the skies, it can become shorter ...