Lyrics Телевизор - На Желябова,13
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На Желябова 13 во дворе
Умирает человек в декабре,
Умирает незнакомый мне человек,
Льется кровь на снег…
А ночью у крови черный цвет,
А люди спешат – им дела нет,
Что на Желябова 13 в проходном дворе
Умирает человек в декабре…
Что ты веришь в силу этой руки?
Наши вены так нежны, вены так тонки…
Чужая сила, что по венам кровь несет,
Так вот вырвется наружу – и все…
А ты хотел успеть так много…
Зима встает на пути,
И не спастись, не обойти…
И, склонившись над телом, плачет душа:
“Как жаль…
Прощай…”
На Желябова 13 тишина…
Кто сказал тебе, что кончилась война?
Этот город не спит, он шепчет мне:
“Выживет тот, кто сильней.”
Что ты веришь в силу этой руки?
Наши вены так нежны, вены так тонки…
Чужая сила, что по венам кровь несет,
Так вот вырвется наружу – и все…
Отчего мы так непрочны? Ответь!
В каждом теле с рожденья спрятана смерть,
В каждом празднике предчувствие беды…
Отчего мы не такие, как Ты?
А впрочем, может так и лучше…
On Zhelyabova 13 in the yard
A man dies in December
A stranger dies to me
Blood is pouring on the snow ...
And at night the blood is black,
And people are in a hurry - they do not care,
What Zhelyabova 13 in the courtyard
A man dies in December ...
What do you believe in the power of this hand?
Our veins are so tender, veins are so thin ...
The alien force that carries blood through the veins,
So break out - and all ...
And you wanted to do so much ...
Winter gets in the way
And do not be saved, do not get around ...
And, bending over the body, the soul cries:
"What a pity…
Goodbye…"
On Zhelyabova 13 silence ...
Who told you that the war was over?
This city is not sleeping, he whispers to me:
“The one who is stronger will survive.”
What do you believe in the power of this hand?
Our veins are so tender, veins are so thin ...
The alien force that carries blood through the veins,
So break out - and all ...
Why are we so fragile? Answer it!
Death is hidden in every body from birth,
In each celebration, a premonition of trouble ...
Why are we not like you?
And yet, maybe it's better ...
A man dies in December
A stranger dies to me
Blood is pouring on the snow ...
And at night the blood is black,
And people are in a hurry - they do not care,
What Zhelyabova 13 in the courtyard
A man dies in December ...
What do you believe in the power of this hand?
Our veins are so tender, veins are so thin ...
The alien force that carries blood through the veins,
So break out - and all ...
And you wanted to do so much ...
Winter gets in the way
And do not be saved, do not get around ...
And, bending over the body, the soul cries:
"What a pity…
Goodbye…"
On Zhelyabova 13 silence ...
Who told you that the war was over?
This city is not sleeping, he whispers to me:
“The one who is stronger will survive.”
What do you believe in the power of this hand?
Our veins are so tender, veins are so thin ...
The alien force that carries blood through the veins,
So break out - and all ...
Why are we so fragile? Answer it!
Death is hidden in every body from birth,
In each celebration, a premonition of trouble ...
Why are we not like you?
And yet, maybe it's better ...