Lyrics ст. К. Карасёв, муз. А. Абрамова - Вылезай из танка
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference ст. К. Карасёв, муз. А. Абрамова - Вылезай из танка, and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
Наступает время вылезать из танка –
Хоть гадай по звёздам, хоть держи пари.
У меня есть стержень, а на стержне планка,
Вот над этой планкой и давай пари.
Подними мне веки, расчеши мне шкуру,
Чтоб я снова ожил, этот мир узря,
У меня талант (был?), у меня культура,
Будет жалко очень пропадать зазря.
Шлемофон расстёгнут, строй по стойке "вольно".
Командир отсеет тех, что не хотят,
Чтобы было просто, чтобы было больно,
С новизной огня, волн, облаков, котят.
Пропустить по вене кубик на петлице,
Но взамен мурашек ветер до костей,
А хотелось солнца, а хотелось влиться
Хоть в молчанье старца, хоть в язык детей.
Чтоб родиться снова, следует быть нежным –
А один не стану, хоть себя сотри.
Не стучи по гробу – вдруг ответят тем же,
Постучи в грудную клетку изнутри.
Ничего не скажешь – громко ли, на ушко,
Как огромно небо, а слова мелки.
Обращайся в птицу, попадай в ловушку,
Распрямятся только полные силки.
Просочась меж рёбер, подобрав оборки,
Тщетно попытавшись после вылезть вон,
Оставайся, что ли, в маленькой каморке,
Где сплелись нейроны в путаный нейлон.
Вытри с шестерёнок жир, избыток смазки,
Смажь хоть перья, что ли, коль позволит вид,
Пусть скрипит погромче, пустим искры в пляску,
А снаружи слышно: сердце говорит.
А отхлынут воды, что со мною выльют,
Завершат ли срок мой подпись и печать,
Пусть меня поднимут маленькие крылья,
В странном направлении из спины торча
It is time to get out of the tank -
Though guessing at the stars, at least bet.
I have a rod, and a rod on the rod,
Here on this bar and let's bet.
Lift my eyelids, brush my skin,
So that I may come to life again, see this world
I have a talent (was?), I have a culture,
It will be a pity to vanish very much.
The headset will be unbuttoned, build on the stand "free".
The commander will exclude those that do not want
To be just to be hurt
With the novelty of fire, waves, clouds, kittens.
Skip the cube on the buttonhole in Vienna,
But instead of goosebumps wind to the bone,
And I wanted the sun, but I wanted to join
Though in the old man's silence, even in the language of children.
To be born again, you should be gentle -
And I will not become one, at least erase myself.
Do not knock on the coffin - suddenly they will answer the same
Knock on the chest from the inside.
You can’t say anything - loudly, in your ear,
How huge the sky, and the words are small.
Turn into the bird, fall into the trap,
Only full snares will straighten.
Leaping between the ribs, picking up frills,
Trying in vain after getting out,
Remain, perhaps, in a small garret,
Where neurons entwined in confused nylon.
Wipe off gear grease, excess grease,
Lubricate even the feathers or something, since the view allows
Let it squeak louder, let the spark into a dance
And outside heard: the heart speaks.
And the waters shall wash away, that they shall pour out with me,
Will my signature and seal complete the time
Let the little wings lift me up
In a strange direction from the back sticking out
Though guessing at the stars, at least bet.
I have a rod, and a rod on the rod,
Here on this bar and let's bet.
Lift my eyelids, brush my skin,
So that I may come to life again, see this world
I have a talent (was?), I have a culture,
It will be a pity to vanish very much.
The headset will be unbuttoned, build on the stand "free".
The commander will exclude those that do not want
To be just to be hurt
With the novelty of fire, waves, clouds, kittens.
Skip the cube on the buttonhole in Vienna,
But instead of goosebumps wind to the bone,
And I wanted the sun, but I wanted to join
Though in the old man's silence, even in the language of children.
To be born again, you should be gentle -
And I will not become one, at least erase myself.
Do not knock on the coffin - suddenly they will answer the same
Knock on the chest from the inside.
You can’t say anything - loudly, in your ear,
How huge the sky, and the words are small.
Turn into the bird, fall into the trap,
Only full snares will straighten.
Leaping between the ribs, picking up frills,
Trying in vain after getting out,
Remain, perhaps, in a small garret,
Where neurons entwined in confused nylon.
Wipe off gear grease, excess grease,
Lubricate even the feathers or something, since the view allows
Let it squeak louder, let the spark into a dance
And outside heard: the heart speaks.
And the waters shall wash away, that they shall pour out with me,
Will my signature and seal complete the time
Let the little wings lift me up
In a strange direction from the back sticking out