But we are Christs coming out on the water

Shied lightning
Total eclipse,
Receive your sight not soon
And the finger at the Torah

And then everything is written,
What can five risami
Feed five thousand
And start again

But this means
That no one cries,
When there is no food.
To find traces

Magic is necessary,
Rumbling cannonade
And on the stage of life Mag -
Ordinary enemy.

Waved his wand,
In his hand he breathed
And the miracle happened -
Money on a dish

Fell from the sky.
Kohl Netreba
Hits the strings with silver
And the voice of an extraordinary

Declares that if he falls ill,
Then the enemies would not apply,
Turn to friends, do not consider that it is in a delirium,
The bed I steppe zanaveste me windows fog
At the head hang a fallen star from the sky! "

Kohl, bravo!
All also curly
You do it.
Where to go?

Lost in broad daylight,
In Nikopol forests?
But there is steppe?
Kohl, a response

But it was us
Well there?
We thought forever
Rose, our star,

Enter into the history of their country,
But there was a ball of Satan
And for him - the collapse,
No one called,

And nobody is called on in life,
Oh, just hold on,
That was
Memory is not forgotten.

And remember, Kohl,
The wheels came off in the Volga,
And I slept in the car for so long
Only committee "KGB"

Could razrulit and lip
My need was a sip of vodka
And zakushat Astrakhan herring.
Igor Music, native,

Swept-life villain with a head?
Do you remember how the train to Krasnoperekopsk
We sang songs, drank vodka, pressed the "kranostopsk?
And found ourselves

Do not know where
But we are Christs coming out on the water
All was not like me
I was so homesick for you, my brother,

I'm sorry, did it happen
The fate of a zigzag, as shaft,
We were scattered,
Sucked

Ordinariness of life,
Hopelessness oblivion
Distance
Nestoyanie,

Laziness,
Rubbish,
And just nostalgia heart glozhit,
And maybe offer

Unexpected date?
Risk of disappointment,
After all, say it is not about anything
Only that the shoulders

But this - the past,
"Bugatti" extinct,
Peace be upon him.
Each one

Continues its path,
And we do not collapse,
Meet me at the very end,
Guys! See you in the window

His infinite memory
And now - to build a statue

Virtual-verbal,
Bottomless-heaven,
Ingeniously-simple

I stand before you barefoot
With head bowed,
In the crown of thorns, naked,
I strictly do not judge,

Guys, forgive me!

19.10.10g. Z.Sh.