Текст песни Пицца - Она

I do not give away her gifts
I have not walked with her in the park,
But why is it so hot I loved my rebellious
I have not driven it in places
I have not seen her in dreams,
But the resurrection as the next Monday if it is not in bed
I did not write her poetry and music
That's the first thing I could
But if smog clouding she had me from head to toe
Now she is - it's me, I feel
And between us, the current wave of rampage
And let the storm - winds blow let
Our comfort they do not get

Tolley in hysterics, whether in delirium
The thought of her singing voice in me Erykah Badu
In any doors I will go and what will remain will be closed while the palette is open
The thought of it as a Thawed chocolate bar
The same sweet
The same sticky
He looks furtively, somewhere in the depth of my
Now I - she is, and she - I
It is not broken strings, I can not stop singing about it
But sooner or later I will strangle how bad cigarette down to the filter not finished his
It's too lively sense
I've been lost in dark corners
Entangled in streams of gray cars
But even in the most crazy dreams it was much clearer than in the labyrinths of her soul