I locked the door (you go find)
I sit and pray with ardor:
Please talk, please slander,
My dear friend transistor.
Over the globe, as if in school,
I search my way through ether:
Oh Comrade Mr. Goldberg,
Please have a word to utter!
Please slander! Talk!
I pray, my hands all sweating.
But from the nightfall to sunrise
I hear damned jamming.
He´s silent, Comrade Goldberg.
No word from BBC.
And only the song of Solweig,
Is heard all through Rusie.
Unlocked the door, the window wide,
And cursing sky and land.
And till the sunrise, be as may,
I sit and hear jam.
A. Galich, 1970
У тебя есть настоящий талант
