перерывпятьминут - лебовски - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I am recorded on the hard drive of Moscow, drunk like a cut-glass Soviet glass, sold like a stolen tape recorder, and watching the trains in the subway.

Suddenly you are driving there, suddenly you are alone. I could at least look at your face, if you get old, I’ll probably die, and you, with your new one, will give birth to twins.

I am written in your Maleskin notebook as a boy who still loves you.

I wake up to an alarm clock in the morning, but you don’t have to set it - it will wake you up.

I conquered Everest for you, consisting of bottles of Ryazan beer. Make me even more dead, call me at five in the morning - I will no longer be happy.

Without you.

Without your drunken jokes, without your drawings, without your hugs, I will, like the new big Lebowski, go out to the store in a robe.

My meat is soy, really.

I am already a vegetarian salad myself.

Rip me off, kill me for debt, hang me like Saddam, declare holy jihad on me.

You are my September 11th, no less, and this is the boy who cries so much.

At the store, behind the cash register, I forget my credit card password.

You and I are two halves in the theory of Faina Ranevskaya.

This is how my life began and my childhood ended.

I spend every day waiting for the local police officer to ask me what’s new.

But nothing new will happen, no one will discover it.

The pseudo-poet went home and left a note on the door of the communal apartment: “I’m sick of you, I’m sick of you.”

And no one will know what kind of boy lived there, what kind of music he listened to, for whom he drank so much, suffered constantly and wrote that not living is better.

And I'm buying a ticket back to a life full of misunderstandings.

And loans are better and better, a loan, a mortgage and living at work are better than these streams of disappointments.

No one will iron my shirt on Thursday and Saturday, as well as on Tuesday, and all that noises outside my window is the wind and a drunken janitor.

A thief will not rob me, because I was vilely robbed a long time ago, leaving behind my feelings and soul a .rar archive in the format of vulgar suffering.

Without you.

Without your drunken jokes, without your drawings, without your hugs, I will be the new big Lebowski going out to the store in a robe.