I must go on standing You can't break that which isn't yours I must go on standing I'm not my own, it's not my choice Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood Apr?s moi, le deluge, after me comes the flood I must go on standing You can't break that which isn't yours I must go on standing I'm not my own, it's not my choice Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood Apr?s moi le deluge, after me comes the flood Fevrale dostat chernil i plakat Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd Poka grohochushaya slyakot Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood Apr?s moi le deluge, after me comes the flood I must go on standing You can't break that which isn't yours I must go on standing I'm not my own, It's not my choice I must go on stan-stan-ding-ding You can't, can't break that, that Which isn't, isn't yours, yours I'm not, not my own, own It's not, not my choice, choice Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать! Писать о феврале навзрыд, Пока грохочущая слякоть Весною черною горит. Достать пролетку. За шесть гривен, Чрез благовест, чрез клик колес, Перенестись туда, где ливень Еще шумней чернил и слез. Где, как обугленные груши, С деревьев тысячи грачей Сорвутся в лужи и обрушат Сухую грусть на дно очей. Под ней проталины чернеют, И ветер криками изрыт, И чем случайней, тем вернее Слагаются стихи навзрыд.
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