Robert Aleksandrov Biography

Administrator Ufa - Kiesel of the Perm region. At the age of 12, he first picked up the guitar, since then he has not parted with her to this day. At the age of 14, VIA "Discont" already headed, at the age of 16 he played ROC - the Erebus group, at 17, having moved to Perm, he was invited and played in the Orpheus group at the recreation center. He served in the army - in gg. In the city of Snezhinsk Chelyabinsk and works to G.

upon arrival in the city immediately poured into the movement of the author’s song. At the end of G. In the same year, at the invitation, he participated in the Bard - the Prosper "Mana" in the city of Krasnoyarsk and performs at one of the scenes of the Grushinsky festival. Since G. in its city of Snezhinsk in the city at the Ilmen festival, this year, it becomes a laureate among the authors.

Snezhinsk - "Snowflake" and "Listopad". As most enthusiastic people have their own specific hobbies: KVN and Opeetta Theater. During this time, he performed about a dozen roles and repeatedly became a laureate at theater festivals. In the late 80s, he was currently the leader of this game in the KVN team. Kiesel of the Perm region. In the year, the idea was born and brought to life - creating a constellation in Snezhinsk Bard -Kafe.

In the first season there were 5 concerts: Panshin V. Snezhinsk, Payusov V. Snezhinsk, Sedelev O. In March, 1 festival of the author’s song among schoolchildren “Silver Strings” was held, and already on November 10 of the same year - 2 regional festival of the author’s song “Silver strings”. I turn on the lamp and sit down I turn on the lamp and sit down, opening the notebook and taking the feather, but something thought does not go, and gray rain knocks out the window.

I take a raincoat, I take an umbrella, take sadness with me, and, looking at the gloomy horizon, I float into the distance. Chorus: clouds, clouds, you rush from afar. You take me, clouds, clouds! Everywhere in the windows the light goes out, well, the time later, there are no random counterclaims either, only I can’t sleep. And all living things, as in a dream, mutters to himself, we do not sleep in midnight silence only by me and clouds.

Eh, now two wings, clouds, clouds! Having come home, at dawn, well, it's time to sleep. The flashlight went out on the pillar. Still! Time is five. And I will look into the enlightened window: Grace! And now I take a feather, I take and a notebook. Chorus: Clouds, clouds you rush from afar, you will take me, clouds, clouds! All toys are dedicated to the son. To know, to know that it's time to sleep, sleep.

Handles under the head: Bai, Bai, just do not prank, ah, ah. Walking hours: so -tick, childhood of quick -hearted - a moment, a moment. Let you, my little one, sleep, sleep - only good dreams, dreams dream. Chorus: Sleep, my bunny is affectionate, with a warm night with a May, with a good fairy tale, fall asleep. A month behind the window, dogs, cats, sleep and you, my tiny, butai, butter are sleeping.

Childhood is carefree - twist -round, it is not easy to choose your own path. Moths about glass - Dzin, Dzyn, what will happen to you, my son? The bed will creak: creak, creak, the nose squelchs again: squire, clip. The blanket hung, night, night, and the eyes of my father’s - exactly the same. Chorus: Sleep, my bunny is affectionate, a warm night of May, with a good fairy tale, fall asleep.

A month behind the window, dogs, cats, not pain, my tiny, buti, butter are sleeping. And when you grow up, my gnome, please do not forget your house. Let fate abandon into the distance, let him go, remember the folder with mom all your life. The thoughts are gloomy - away, away, the sky was painted for Sasha Night, Night. The recruitment has blossomed - May, May, his native baby, Bai, Bai.

Chorus: Sleep my bunny is affectionate, with a warm night Mayskoy, fall asleep with a good fairy tale. A month behind the window, dogs, cats sleep, grow up, my tiny, butter. All the living instead disappeared all living things instantly disappeared, all green fades, twilight by six o’clock. The lanterns, according to old friendship, clearly perform the service, eh, today he gave free rein to the legs!

And according to a echoing composure, I go with a gait of an adult, let it be darkened with a cool port of the river. And at the old station, I will read the initials where they once in childhood circled them with a feature. And I remember the past. It is a pity that I rarely go here, yes, I dreamed of Kama lights. I will plunge into the sea thick and go to the coming dream. Good, good evening, Permyaki.

And, not noticing the step, to be at the state sign, sit on a bench and just smoke. On the bridge, wrapping the railing, a steamboat, I wait dreary and get a dream to get to this city, because it is dear to me, and it is not for nothing that I call it: dear. Rains pour, taking up Kama - I do not like farewell drama! I can protect your appearance in my heart.

Letters will be a support for me, I say to you: “On an ambulance, I was filled with a ripe day with a ripe apple, swept over dust in the yards, bold poultry into the boulevards, straightening its wings in the bustle. Drawn up in April feathers, Spring was blown up.

I measure time and steps until the morning. And at home, like twins, my vision, my eyesight. I am spoiling from the balcony bed to the first -grade theater, where the drama and comedy are so funny.It cries and rain blindly on the inner glass. My voice breaks away more often at the time when the valley blooms, because I am sung to me sweeter, you know well about it. The telephone was repainted with passion, grinned, focused and shouting along the wire: “Hello, Roma!

The summer residents were drunk with business and rushed with their heads in the bee to live with a bird in white, to wander the blue cloud, enjoying silence. To become a moment of a limp whim and fog over the river to fly a melody of blues over an envious rumor, and not to be a nadumon burden and an extinct candle. I do not want to be the memory of the past and resentment of the age -old!

There is no stability in the spring of stability. I love her like that! Life plays cats-mouse life plays mouse cats, and I will save wooden houses on the taiga shore in my heart. And the snow will fall a little, and will stir up like a mica, a small village called Bad. Chorus: a village is a small diet, let the misfortune not attend you. In the spring, to the delight of the birds, draw a dream into the capital.

In the evening, without any haste, we wander through the streets and cedar nuts with a crunch of squirrels. We will sing, touching the strings, a star will slide into a small village called Bad from the sky.