Текст песни ПридуРОК - Букварель

Making faces moon-prostitute
Thoughtful aspen leaves
As an artist, deprived of reason,
I wrote you a hundred paintings

Cools the sadness in a white mug
Someone's chilly hand in your pocket
About someone whispered in your ear
Someone's nerves flowing from the ceiling

My eyelids lead dance
With wondrous ease birdsong
And let all the dumb talk
As the tears from your long eyelashes

Suddenly, with a roar and frustrate collapse
Will break a crystal pitcher
Shine in the eyes will certainly be extinguished
The indifference of human hundred spin

Glare, mournful groans,
Sweet smoke from the chimney, a warm scarf,
Crows fly over the river
Under the suffering strange harps

A stack of books that gathering dust on a shelf,
Waterfall powerful stream,
The truth of life, the needle in the haystack,
The conduct electric current,

The smell of coffee tart at the door,
The light from the windows, and the eye - that I
Gently letters watercolor
Shamelessly draw you.

Somewhere rain falls asleep with a snowstorm
And knocking at the window - it's me
Gently letters watercolor
Shamelessly draw you

Embarrassed amusement touchy
Leaves torn from the branches of aspen
I used to stay with you a little bit
In any of those same pictures ...