Читаем Люди идут по дороге полностью

Был почти что принц голубых кровей,Был пример, маяк для народа,А теперь стою, продаю портвейнУ подземного перехода.Был филолог я, был философ я,На поклон ходил в храм науки,Соскочил с кругов, больше нет житья,Страхом скованы ноги-руки!Нас таких — толпа, мы плечом к плечуДохнем, давимся на асфальте!Эй, вы, граждане, я домой хочу,Подходите же, покупайте!Вот легавый мент, кверху нос задрав,В стороне стоит — ждёт, зануда.Четвертак на жизнь отстегнуть в рукавЯ ему, козлу, не забуду.Мне сосед кричит: «Разменяй деньгу,Аристотель, блин, Ломоносов!»Я даю рубли. Кутерьма в мозгу:«Не мети пургу, сам философ!»Вот какой-то гад подошёл, спросил,С кем решаю я круг вопросов.Мама родная, больше нету сил,Был филолог я, был философ!Вот бутылку я уронил, разбил,Эх, стекляшка жизнь, эх, осколки!Род людской угрюм, белый свет уныл;И черны в саду палки-ёлки!Кровь пульсирует в паутине вен.Я не режу их, жить охота!Завтра мне опять продавать портвейнУ подземного перехода…1992

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