Rock and roll. Non-english versions

Man and cat crying at the window
A grey rain is falling directly on the glass.
To the man with the cat ambulance is rushing,
The poor man's brain is sick.

The doctor is driving, driving through the snow plain.
He's lucky to have a healing powder.
Man and cat will take the same powder,
And the sadness will recede, and the longing will pass.

Man and cat hardly count the days,
Instead of a blue sky, the ceiling is gray.
The man and the cat fly at night,
But a bad dream doesn't give you wings.

Where are you, where are you, where are you, white carriage?
A man is shouting in the toilet walls.
But the walls don't hear him, the pipes are like veins,
And the drain tank, like a heart, is pounding madly

 
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Rock and roll is the filthiest music of the 20th century, completely mediocre. This is the direction of filthy hippie bastards who slept in urine and vomit. Rock music of the 80s has nothing to do with it, they are just promoting rock and roll at the expense of it. The rock of 80-2000 have nothing to do with rock-n-roll, it is professional and melodic and romantic or lyric decadance, or hard, there even rythmics another.
These morons combine these styles only on the basis of the instrumental sound. It's like saying that Vivaldi's music and Mendelssohn's march are one and the same style.
 
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Man and cat crying at the window
A grey rain is falling directly on the glass.
To the man with the cat ambulance is rushing,
The poor man's brain is sick.

The doctor is driving, driving through the snow plain.
He's lucky to have a healing powder.
Man and cat will take the same powder,
And the sadness will recede, and the longing will pass.

Man and cat hardly count the days,
Instead of a blue sky, the ceiling is gray.
The man and the cat fly at night,
But a bad dream doesn't give you wings.

Where are you, where are you, where are you, white carriage?
A man is shouting in the toilet walls.
But the walls don't hear him, the pipes are like veins,
And the drain tank, like a heart, is pounding madly


Thank goodness that bastard wasn't popular. He openly promoted drugs and was in prison for and stabbing someone with a knife on psilocybin trip. It costs much less than zero.
 
In general, all this St. Petersburg direction has always been distinguished by a special swagger and primitiveness. Half of the St. Petersburg rock club were Nazis, the corrosion of the metal promoted cannibalism, Grebenshchikov stole one melody, due to which he rose, and the rest was pretentious senseless nonsense. 99% of their music is extremely primitive and easy to pick on 3-guitar chords, but they said they played elite music.

There were only 2 exceptions: Kino (also primitive but normal music) and Splin
 
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In Russia, the the city where musicians are drowning in vomit and can pull out their penis during a performance and pee in the hall, considered as Cultural Center(officallly!)
This is undoubted Eurocentrism. In Europe, they also love these things.
 
Thank goodness that bastard wasn't popular. He openly promoted drugs and was in prison for and stabbing someone with a knife on psilocybin trip. It costs much less than zero.
Who cares. All I see in this version is good looking girls and nice melody
 
Their icon, Yegor Letov, did not recognize the Yekaterinburg musicians, especially Agatha Christie. But Agatha Christie played highly professional, very complex music with excellent sound and incredibly deep poetry, as the most famous song of Letov "All goes according the Plan" is played on 4 chords, and he himself played it on 4 chords. He loved Dostoevsky, who seduced young children, was a cocaine addict and ludoman.

And he was not a real anti-communist, he worked against Perestroika and not against the USSR, just like Chubais
 

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