Lyrics Поцелуй Бомжа - Не смотри в глаза бомжа

The table at the cesspool of a ragged newspaper,
A fragile toilet made of rotten bricks,
The bed is pissed with softened branches.
We go to the realm of scourges.

Ringing diarrhea rumbles in the alley,
The air is thin, as if in a thunderstorm.
Every homeless person knows he wants to
A kind and smell to break a tear.

Here it is: he sat down to rest on the tire
With harej bloated colors of logs.
Eat something sticky: in a powerful belch
Thin bouquet of cabbage rolls and shit.

Locksmith, artist and banker - come,
In the well-fed palms holding a penny.
Sniff greedily, kiss, love,
Just do not touch the soul of a vagabond!