Текст песни Оксана Романів - Вокзали

These cities and houses, these great powers,
Endless autumn cold stations,
You are standing in the middle of a gray room
And you don't know where to go back ...

Maybe there will be forces to break that circle.
And with frozen fingers - quietly and weakly
You will play your unfinished solo,
Returning eternity to that November.

For none of us has yet determined the face,
When the wind is behind you and your words are torn,
Like ersatz chords in an old piano,
That a hundred times louder will pass through the memory.