18 birches

The sun is getting warmer
I want to live forever, but where it has paid off
Once again landed in the arms of Morpheus
And most importantly, into your arms don't hit
And I can't sleep...
Can't sleep...
The dial of the smoke is almost not visible
Sticky from sweat, smoke in the ceiling
From the speaker faintly heard van Cliburn
And on the wall all the same the pacifist icon
And I can't sleep...
Can't sleep...

Train, train, train, train, train
Take me to the Nevsky
To the bride
I know, I know, I know, I know - so what?
We need to be together
Always

Outside my window 18 the birches
I'm he believed, as do crows
Those that the North wind somewhere claimed
And the last motherfucker as the last cartridge
And I would not sleep...
Not sleep...