Женя - Сан-Франциско - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Do you remember how we all studied in high school in the inland province, somewhere a couple of emergency planes from the capital?We still didn’t really sense a catch in principle, we wrote dictations, climbed around a construction site, played CIF and at 33, played football on the box and downloaded ringtones for the newly emerging Motorolas and Siemens

Childhood somehow smoothly blindly walked happily into the bear trap of existence. It was fun for everyone, more or less, even though everyone was poor then, but it was easier to have fun with ordinary communication, in general, everything was emotional

Everything was acceptable, taking off the sneakers from a sucker was the ultimate dream of that time, we probably didn’t even know about a better life, there was no example, and there was no time for that. Gates with holey nets, and we run small - that’s our whole model of the Universe

And she was awesome

What am I getting at?Do you remember how suddenly from the speakers in the city square, from the windows of houses, from every minibus in the city, a dance remix of the song If You Gouin Tu Saen Freen Ciscooo what is there flowers in what is there began to play?Sticky hit was

And now we are already adults, we learned about the original source, someone read the translation of the text, in the end, what do we have today?The country has gone crazy, there are wars after wars, the last button is missing, damn it, the rockets didn’t fly into space, but onto people’s heads. Drones, terrorist attacks, some new laws every day, prisons are overcrowded, soon we’ll all be behind bars, it’s easier to surround the whole country with barbed wire, sentencing everyone in absentia to life under the Lord and cover everything with tattoos from helicopters

Well, seriously, damn, whoever isn’t in prison is either a veteran or a skin walker sluggishly wandering along the pads. Everything about it is fucked up and trampled, here we are real adults, we walk back and forth with dissatisfied fuckers, in tattered vanes across a pissed-off landscape, this is not the Sims 2, this is fucking set up, home-work/study, fucking fucked up, we’re kneading mud and snow,We are waiting for the coming of Christ and death. Well, I don’t care

We still can’t make it through the minefields to San Francisco, with flowers braided in our hair, so that with the shaggy hippies, siphotic in pacifism, we’ll go crazy and get drunk with gin and tonic in an old decorated Volkswagen with kotsan On my gravestone, attach an abstract meme for the elite of all sorts Sur and decay