Вера Полозкова - Катя и другое - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Katya plows a week between the Holen women, to the reduced cheekbones. On Friday evening, Katya comes to the pub and sits on a bar stool. Katya asks himself food and two shots of whiskey fifty. Katya blackened the pan, and looks around like a living emery, holds her neck while they were hanging on her.

A tall bartender with an earring craft knows his own clearly and smiles cunningly to her. Katya has a syrup in the glass, and vodka, and a slice Lima, and Kuantro. will not humble; Inside, the wiring is short, a hole the size of everything is a gut.

Katya recalls how closely, funny and wild when you love someone. That's the same time, now, look, you are alone, like a white Bim. Lonely so that there is no one to drink with, it’s okay to talk about the future and the past. Lonely terrible, offensive, children's - father's anger, empty angle.

In the glass of Katya Tekil, syrup and Fresh. In the peritoneum with a coin gap. In fact, you don’t want, baby - you don’t eat like that. Since you endure all this vile blunt gallone, it means that you still wait for something. What do you want - good news and get into the Christmas tree?

Katya thinks herself with a Clint Eastwood as he is.

Katya squints and brings his shoulders to the beat, adequate, if not cheerful. Katya is drunk in the arc, and let it be forever, Katya Khuynya War - she, in general, is almost intact.

Katya has a bottle of Roma at home, just in case, and in the lining of a coat of a plague hash. You, Lord, if you do not strangle, make you laugh.

Katya calls the phone in the subway, jumps out of her hands, falls on the skirt. Katya sees that this is mom, but he does not hear anything at all, drops the phone.

Katya pushes the door, the one where the “Exit to the city” is written. The climate was immersed at night. City to foam rubber, all yellow and bel.

fireworks with firecrackers, cannonade; Next to Katya, aunt goes to BOA. Mom calls again, well, what does she need, "Ma, what do you need, huh?"

Katya even shudders involuntarily, as if someone had a force on the battery: “I broke my hand. It's too painful for me. Come, please, as soon as possible. ”

So a shaky head is cold. "I will come now, I’ll take you myself." Katya is sober in eight seconds, she has not any eye.

Katya thinks - these are those dear, rightly. Katya is scary that there is a fracture.

Mom sits on the couch and holds ice on her hand, sobs. Mom already does not get to the tooth. Katya rushes around the apartment, as if a whip is brought over her. An ambulance on the door rings in twenty and five minutes. Something is in a collapse, it does not work, at least kill. The heart beats in Katya, like a caught sparrow.

At night in Moscow injury, all prosperity and peace. A guy with a broken nose, and a driver with a twisted leg. They brought the heavy, a brawl in a bar, five stabs. Along each wall is still a pair of focused, but alive.

Malays are gloomy, from darkness and back to the darkness. rags, brown, crumpled, in the corner.

The silent Tajik drives a dirty mop, a man on a gurney lies, dreams. Mom cries in pain and laments.

The loose bull in her underpants, formidable, like a commander, from the operating room breaks into the corridor. He sits on the bench, and blood pours from it like sweat in July. He asks a friend of Kolyan with him to get through to Julia.

Otherwise, he won’t go to take care.

That's a fucking idiot.

Everyone pulls him back, and he dies them, infection. The doctor says - what will I do, he is three times healthier than me. Around him, orderlies and doctors loom.

Mom is crying.

The whole fat is cut, like a sieve. Mom sobs "why I have this, for what." It was necessary to carry mom to Cyto. They will come running, nod, run away again.

Katya wants to sleep.

The dark -skinned eastern boy, cast, beautiful, bandaged at the shoulder. The hand is launched like a son, and someone's drunken woman jumps like a locust.

Katya Kukom sits on a couch, knocking on a jacket with his fingers.

By five in the morning, a sleepy Aibolit imposes langets, draws a certificate and gives valuable instructions. Mom stops crying. The right to the shoulder and big on the other hand is hypnered. Mom looks like in the Mudatsky action movie.

Katya goes home in a taxi, grinding his jaws with his jaws. She does not mind either mom, or Tolstoy, nor herself.

“I am a tired robot, a holey tank. We must be a hero, and I am a weakness. My voice sat down, the fur will break, and I do not want to be stronger than everyone. Not a fighter, not equipped with claws. I am a simple woman, draw