Singer: Vyacheslav Butusov

I fled from the city to the cries of birds,
I fled from the city,the laughter of children,
I escaped, perhaps, from ourselves,
I hurried towards the great river.

I want to puke, but not the time
Time to Polish boots.

Anger - passerine word
Accumulates in the pockets of her coat.

Shore is a slow bird,
Shore - is the prisoner of the ocean,
Shore is a heart of stone,
The land is somebody's prison.

The dream of mankind, has already lasted many thousands of years and yet he any end or edge. One thing that will break it in a certain appointed hour and day. People get used to living in a dream take root here. So the circus rooster taught to dance to the music, placing it regularly on a heated pan, accompanied by the same motive. Later the poor bird, having heard the first familiar sounds begins to nervously ride around the arena without any pans. And the audience applauds cock for imaginary intelligence.

I walk along the river
On the broken bottle rings,
And the water in the river red wine
And in the wine reflects the sun.

The RELATIVE DEADNESS: It is when you lie down with your eyes closed and think died, as suddenly the bell rings from the dead: "How are you?"

The state of the FUTURE: no future - it will always be!

State SONG: Today from the toilet flew down. Oddly enough, it looked romantic.

The state of the EXTERNAL MANIFESTATIONS of the SOUL: eyes wide open.

A state of TRANCE: the awareness of being part of something unknown, for example - abbreviation.

State of DESPAIR: Life is wrong! All swelled up. The think goes out the window. From tea and it happens. Gitary know it.

The status of a DEITY: a reflection of the cradle in the eyes of a cat.

State UNICOM: Kosma - giant, fascinating, highly evolved, close to perfection, but still unkempt.