Текст песни найтивыход - я тут, почти мёртв

Pass by, just .
eyes caught somewhere .
autumn, when , gone with the wind
hurry on different sides ,
whether on purpose
or just because .
did not want to breathe,
forced himself loved.
surfaced at the crossroads
as if from under the earth or dust ,
under the sun,
added to each other
in any announcements,
it's probably a fashion
but it was sincere , I know.
inside trams people
on both sides watched
one earphone you
and the other I took away .
and you're beautiful .
in her blue dress ,
that looks like a sea of ​​flowers ,
faced planets
I remember.
and plenty for two,
seems to be one hundred , I think.
one in the subway
catch views of passers-by.
prompt other people ,
do not sleep , and I slept .
a little lost for themselves,
for a week , or even more.
past feet
the asphalt paste,
and in May torn ligaments,
on the other side of the city,
cozy to me there, alone,
seeing only paint
sit and watch
threading machines alone.
night, punched warm rain,
studded with thoughts inside your head.
unlike we do ,
and so , day after day,
considered rooks in the spring,
we are with you . live inside .
and , see , still ,
hands, hands, hands, hands ...
you're not alone .

spit in the face to those who
erases wrist dreaming about you .
trams, as usual,
without delay ,
fly himself inside an empty blue,
and wires that are not in custody and not damp,
clinging to them,
they are like the stars , will point the way.
Try to sleep ,
about anything not dreaming .
within itself , falling asleep ,
behold my hands , hugging
my shoulders .
I'm the same as before,
go to the hill ,
taking off shoes
lumps of mud.
my ships , I thought ,
do not sink ,
but just float away ,
on ports , hooters ,
and follow the surface of
as if laughing.
not seen beautiful
counter reefs,
and then dispel myths
as if they are.
and how many lied
I have about this when?
on the fingers of both hands ,
I did not seem to find it .
I drive out
amid the walls of the tunnel,
space and time ,
I thought ,
There is no past ,
though I am not alone in this world,
although in the universe
I did not see a soul .
in the monastery of malicious burning smell ,
trolley glohli ,
and we got into the tram,
raced Statement
farther and farther away .
all painting the marker in the dark silhouettes.
first victory , then defeat,
and , you know , the zhzhёtsya .
and again want to go in pine ,
Turn off the mobile ,
and the air is so pure,
that is beyond words .
and only windows
night city on the form .
native and trams .
hurry to shed and sleep ,
this night only .
I sleep alone,
and bad thoughts inside
still feel the pain drops
and shame .