The city's fast asleep. Lifting the gate,
I leave my home in the night.
I go higher, right onto the roof
and walk about it, like on a knife.
Above Moscow shines a full moon;
once again, I can't sleep tonight.
I'm just a lunatic, and when I'm not asleep
I love to wander through the night, around the roofs.
I look down on the city from these heights
and black cats sing me songs.
Somewhere down there I see again
the scarce lights of cars at night.
Till morning I'll count chimneys—
on these roofs, there's exactly a hundred.
Above Moscow shines a full moon;
once again, I can't sleep tonight.
I'm just a lunatic, and when I'm not asleep
I love to wander through the night, around the roofs.
I look down on the city from these heights
and black cats sing me songs.
I'm just a lunatic, and when I'm not asleep
I love to wander through the night, around the roofs.
I look down on the city from these heights
and black cats sing me songs.