Lyrics Сергей Луковкин - Питер-буги
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(Ю.Ю.Шевчуку)
По трамвайным путям, колодцам, по бездорожью
Меня везёт какой-то сумасшедший частник, невозможный
«Моя последняя осень» - подумал я, закрыв глаза.
Потом увидел его профиль и, зачем-то, сказал:
«Я очень люблю армянский коньяк,
Но нельзя ли нам помедленнее ехать, земляк.
Ведь я пишу новую песню, про осень, в Питере
Я пишу новую песню, про осень, в Питере»,
А он сказал мне: «Ну, и что, ведь эту песню, кто-то, давным-давно написал»
Простите, сумасшедшие братья, я опять опоздал.
Двое штанов, тулуп и шапка. Минус двадцать в январе
Я прилетел сюда – вдруг Питер захотелось посмотреть
Хожу, продрогший до костей, там, где должна быть Нева
И повторяю про себя новой песни слова
Мороз и солнце, день чудесный, жаль, что я не оптимист
И вдруг навстречу мне, какой-то, дикий, велосипедист
Я кричал ему: «Ты знаешь, я писал новую песню, про зиму в Питере,
Пока я не увидел тебя, я писал новую песню, про зиму в Питере
А он сказал мне: «Ну, и что, ведь эту песню, кто-то, давным-давно написал»
Простите, сумасшедшие братья, я опять опоздал
Мне снова холодно, хотя уже весна и ледоход
Я стою на мосту, смотрю вперёд, а там народ
Я пригляделся, Боже мой, вот это – да!
Они же голые все, мама! Так и рухнул с моста.
Пока летел, кричал: «О, люди, как же это понимать?!
Они сказали мне: «Весна, сынок, и надо загорать»
Я кричал им: «Я пишу новую песню, про весну в Питере,
Вы знаете, я пишу новую песню, про весну в Питере
Они сказали: «Ну, и что, ведь эту песню, кто-то, давным-давно написал»
Простите, сумасшедшие братья, я опять опоздал
Вдруг, потеплело, посветлело, от чего – не пойму
И вдруг, откуда ни возьмись студентки С.П.Г.П.У.
Я угощаю их мороженым, даю им сигарет
Я сам себя не узнаю, они смеются в ответ
И как бы так, между прочим, мне говорят: «Идиот,
Ведь это ж – белые ночи, давай водить хоровод»
А потом мы вместе допишем эту песню – про лето в Питере
Мы напишем вместе эту песню – про лето в Питере
Хоть эту песню, кто-то, давным-давно написал
Простите, сумасшедшие братья, я опять опоздал
Г.2001 апрель 13 Питер
(Yu.Yu.Shevchuk)
By tram roads, wells, off-road
I'm driven by some crazy private trader, impossible
“My last autumn,” I thought, closing my eyes.
Then I saw his profile and, for some reason, said:
“I love Armenian brandy very much
But can we slow down, countryman.
After all, I am writing a new song, about autumn, in St. Petersburg
I am writing a new song, about autumn, in St. Petersburg ",
And he said to me: “Well, and that, because this song, someone, long ago wrote”
Sorry, crazy brothers, I was late again.
Two pants, sheepskin coat and hat. Minus twenty in january
I flew here - suddenly Peter wanted to see
I walk, chilled to the bone, where the Neva should be
And I repeat to myself the new song of the word
Frost and sun, a wonderful day, I wish I was an optimist
And suddenly to meet me, some kind, wild, cyclist
I shouted to him: “You know, I wrote a new song, about winter in St. Petersburg,
Until I saw you, I wrote a new song, about winter in St. Petersburg
And he said to me: “Well, and that, because this song, someone, long ago wrote”
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
I'm cold again, although it is already spring and ice drift
I stand on the bridge, look forward, and there people
I looked, oh my God, this is - yes!
They are all naked, mom! He collapsed from the bridge.
While flying, he shouted: “Oh, people, how can this be understood ?!
They told me: "Spring, son, and we must sunbathe"
I shouted to them: “I am writing a new song, about spring in St. Petersburg,
You know, I am writing a new song, about spring in St. Petersburg
They said: "Well, and that, because this song, someone, a long time ago wrote"
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
Suddenly, warmer, brightened, from which - I do not understand
And suddenly, out of nowhere students SPGGPU.
I treat them to ice cream, give them cigarettes
I do not know myself, they laugh in response
And as if by the way, they say to me: "Idiot,
After all, this is - white nights, let's drive the dance
And then we will finish this song together - about summer in St. Petersburg
We will write this song together - about summer in St. Petersburg
Although this song, someone, long ago wrote
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
D.2001 April 13 Peter
By tram roads, wells, off-road
I'm driven by some crazy private trader, impossible
“My last autumn,” I thought, closing my eyes.
Then I saw his profile and, for some reason, said:
“I love Armenian brandy very much
But can we slow down, countryman.
After all, I am writing a new song, about autumn, in St. Petersburg
I am writing a new song, about autumn, in St. Petersburg ",
And he said to me: “Well, and that, because this song, someone, long ago wrote”
Sorry, crazy brothers, I was late again.
Two pants, sheepskin coat and hat. Minus twenty in january
I flew here - suddenly Peter wanted to see
I walk, chilled to the bone, where the Neva should be
And I repeat to myself the new song of the word
Frost and sun, a wonderful day, I wish I was an optimist
And suddenly to meet me, some kind, wild, cyclist
I shouted to him: “You know, I wrote a new song, about winter in St. Petersburg,
Until I saw you, I wrote a new song, about winter in St. Petersburg
And he said to me: “Well, and that, because this song, someone, long ago wrote”
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
I'm cold again, although it is already spring and ice drift
I stand on the bridge, look forward, and there people
I looked, oh my God, this is - yes!
They are all naked, mom! He collapsed from the bridge.
While flying, he shouted: “Oh, people, how can this be understood ?!
They told me: "Spring, son, and we must sunbathe"
I shouted to them: “I am writing a new song, about spring in St. Petersburg,
You know, I am writing a new song, about spring in St. Petersburg
They said: "Well, and that, because this song, someone, a long time ago wrote"
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
Suddenly, warmer, brightened, from which - I do not understand
And suddenly, out of nowhere students SPGGPU.
I treat them to ice cream, give them cigarettes
I do not know myself, they laugh in response
And as if by the way, they say to me: "Idiot,
After all, this is - white nights, let's drive the dance
And then we will finish this song together - about summer in St. Petersburg
We will write this song together - about summer in St. Petersburg
Although this song, someone, long ago wrote
Sorry, crazy brothers, I'm late again
D.2001 April 13 Peter