Текст песни Борис Бурда - Журнальный бум

Nowadays fashion for magazines,
Their circulation is increasing.
It used to be enough for everyone
And now, let me give you a little,
All in an unprecedented scale
Disappears like a mirage.

In a flash, as if by the sign of a magician,
Volumes evaporate.
Who was waiting for such zigzags -
On Soviet paper
Embed "Doctor Zhivago"

And didn’t thunder strike?

Everyone printed something -
Prove that he is not a coward.
Everything that the writer hid on the table
In the late sixties,
Accumulated by condensate
And now they have opened the gateway.

There is a darkness of questions:
My friend is very surprised -
Who will return the hours of interrogation,
What a vile denunciation
He went for wearing
Today in the bag the postman?

Retiree in a considerable rank
He sat down over the article, inflated:
"So to write - and not about Chile?
Okay, we slipped through
And the successor lovchile
May they give it properly. "

Howled, yearning for a routine
Member of the Union - Laureate:
"I wouldn’t be so reptile
He wrote in a similar style,
Only they banned me,
What will they not ban them? "

For the success of innovations -
An impressive percentage.
Only the magazine "Our Contemporary",
The past years are a dense captive,
Looks for someone whose tribe
And who is the alien element.

Choose what's better
Sign up for the full term.
After all, such things will go,
Then you get to the handle
And fall off half the half
For the magazine number.

But a pea
Aiming to crush the heart,
Something blathers: "Here is careless!
Have you decided - it will be like this forever? "
Hard to believe, of course ...
And do not believe - how to live?

From magazines will not come
What to wear and what to eat.
Maybe ... But if people
Mind and conscience will not wake
We won’t have a damn thing!
In the meantime, there is hope.