Lyrics Сергей Цветков - Приходите на меня умереть

"Come on me to die"
City A.

I grew up in the city of Gopnik and the old women,
where they smoke nonsense on the last desks.
I did not find this city on any of the two
time-mapped maps:
memory and being.
So I have nowhere to go back.
But the bus takes me
in a city where, if rotated,
then just starting yourself in a circle
or stand in a circle.
Where the boys choose their girlfriend
from the paternal principle "I would have blown."
Where people die in other people's apartments,
weeks of decay.
Where life ruins is shamelessly quiet
at birth, without stuttering
even to give your shout.
Where every inevitable night
under the boot crunches
something undefiled,
something pure, sweet,
nourished by amphitamines.

City-killer in silence
Black eye holes
Abandoned buildings sharpen
Cold syringes about us.

I'm hauled by a bus
in the dumped babylon.
____ The globe is seething in a fit,
knowing that somewhere on it
the kingdom of the dead has grown.
Has grown and decays.
The bus opened its windows -
I lost myself on the ice
a huge lake in the center
funnel, rotating a fury-centrifuge.
The plate says that in a meter
from this place my city burns service
"Come and die on me."