Местный как в песнях текст

Обновлено: 21.11.2024

А на мой двор упала тень ночная.
Каждый день, как день сурка.
Каждый день идем по краю.
И я, что найду, что потеряю.
Знаешь, я и сам не знаю.
Вот живу и наблюдаю.
А жизнь в ответ меня так истерзала.
Я забуду свои 25 и все начну с начала.
Начну по новому, сотру все хроники.
И если мы с тобой не вместе, рвется там, где тоненько.
А мне так нужен этот глоток тоника.
И как прожить нам эту жизнь?
Этот вопрос - риторика.
Не та рука или не тот мне подал.
Музыка дарит добро и так и дарит мне свободу.
А я сам взял и изменил погоду.
Снег растаял, нужно воду.
Выживаем понемногу.
Кругом погоны и патрон к патрону.
Тут так много падали, но много кто стелил солому.

Припев:
Поймаем музыку, кинем в толпу.
Как хорошо, что жизнь наша как в песнях.
Пускай плохих и мы идем ко дну.
Но и на дно идем мы с вами вместе.

Поймаем музыку, кинем в толпу.
Как хорошо, что жизнь наша как в песнях.
Пускай плохих и мы идем ко дну.
Но и на дно идем мы с вами вместе.

Поймаем музыку, кинем в толпу.
Как хорошо, что жизнь наша как в песнях.
Пускай плохих и мы идем ко дну.
Но и на дно идем мы с вами вместе.
And a night shadow fell on my yard.
Every day is like groundhog day.
We walk along the edge every day.
And I will find what I will lose.
You know, I don't know myself.
Here I live and watch.
And life in return tormented me so.
I'll forget my 25 and start over.
I'll start in a new way, erase all the chronicles.
And if you and I are not together, it breaks where it is thin.
And I really need this sip of tonic.
And how can we live this life?
This question is rhetoric.
The wrong hand or the wrong one gave me.
Music gives goodness and gives me freedom.
And I myself took and changed the weather.
The snow has melted, we need water.
We survive little by little.
Around shoulder straps and a cartridge to the cartridge.
There were so many falling, but many were laying straw.

Chorus:
Let's catch the music, throw it into the crowd.
It's so good that our life is like in songs.
Let the bad ones and we go to the bottom.
But we are going to the bottom together.

Let's catch the music, throw it into the crowd.
It's so good that our life is like in songs.
Let the bad ones and we go to the bottom.
But we are going to the bottom together.

Hello to all my foes and just spaces,
To my worn out chances.
Those who were with me and those who were not.
I'm still in the same studios, different wheels.
Found a dashka of answers to the questions I asked.
This is Togliatti sluice automobile plant.
A lot of lines were written without glamor and gloss.
We will delight you with a new present
Thousands of people waiting on a fresh track from the banks of the Volga.
Each has its own roads.
And here they are squeezing between concrete boxes.
Forks lead to a dead end.
The hammers have long been wrung out.
To whom - fortune, luck, to others the road is open to the fool.
From others mobile phones beep.
Around bullish and huckster.
This is our world, I answer.
Somehow it insisted on writing about it.
Everything is already erased to holes.
But I do not like a soul in this empty news,
Where the meaning burns out over low heat.
The titmouses fought off the antennas into the sky.
With his fu-rap on the rocks, but with targets in the pedal to failure.
See the boys, leave the verse.
Then quietly crawl into the underground.
Not identifying yourself with anyone in the neighborhood.
A clear beat and sound, Volga River and Polesie.
Fresh stuff for you here Tatishchev-Mestny.
Tatishchev-Local.

Chorus:
Let's catch the music, throw it into the crowd.
It's so good that our life is like in songs.
Let the bad ones and we go to the bottom.
But we are going to the bottom together.

Let's catch the music, throw it into the crowd.
It's so good that our life is like in songs.
Let the bad ones and we go to the bottom.
But we are going to the bottom together.

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