Garson No.2, Garson No.2,
Na nashikh vetviakh pozhukhla listva;
I, mozhet, prava liudskaia molva,
I vse - tol'ko son, Garson No.2.

Vot stol, gde ia pil; vot viski so l'dom;
Napitok stal pyl', stol sdali v muzej.
A vot - za steklom -
Mumii vsekh moikh blizkikh druzej;
A ia tol'ko vstal na piat' minut - kupit' sigaret.
Ia vyshel projtis' v Latinskij Kvartal,
Svernul s Camden Lock na Nevskij s Tverskoj;
Ia vyshel - dukhovnyj, a vernulsia - mirskoj,
No mog by propast' - an net, ne propal.

Tak Garson No.2, Garson No.2,
To razum gorit, a to brezzhit edva;
No mysl' mertva, radost' moia, a zhizn' - zhiva,
I vse - tol'ko son, Garson No.2.

A kolokol'nyj zvon techet, kak elej;
Okh, moia dusha, vstan', pomolis' -
Nu chto zh ty speshish'?
A zdes' tishina, ikony bitlov, ladan-gashish;
A mne vse ravno - lish' by tebe bylo svetlej.

Tak Garson No.2, Garson No.2,
Na kladbishche - tish';
Na nashikh grobakh - tsvety da trava,
I, pokhozhe, prava liudskaia molva,
I vse - tol'ko son, Garson No.2;
A raz ehto son - chto zh ty stoish', Garson No.2?!