Текст песни Булёк - Фотографии

Again, the poet sits, smokes a cigarette. Trying to go online, but no signal.
As there is no light in the tormented soul of the poet. And only a couple of lines of a song sung.
A glass of tea is nearby, as usual with lemon. Tired eyes, black T-shirt.
Time is late, and tends to sleep a little. But he is somewhere far from the source of life.
He is not alone sometimes likes to be alone, scrolling through the plots of old paintings in his head.
Remembering how he tried to change someone’s biography, he looks at these photos again ...

Instantly and this moment is already eternal.
Our life is like a flash, like a bright light.
Scraps of memory, bits of someone’s biography.
Life rushes, photographs remain.

Photos remain, and everything is as before. All the same life, all the same modest hopes.
Trying to change something is probably stupid ... & quot; After all, everything is fine and so & quot; softly whisper lips.
Our whole life, is it really nothing? Of course, leaving everything as is is easiest.
But there is no strength to change and no desire. Again, memories flashed ...

Life rushes and photos remain. In the old pictures, someone is again remembered.
To break into a stormy whirlwind into someone else's life ... Poet, at least you should understand yours.
After all, you can sculpt it as you want, and not sit out again in empty meditations of the night.
All this is very sad and corrodes the soul. But instead of a note of sadness, you listen to your heart.
And remembering the remnants of bad negatives does not add either joy or positive.
A sad motive with a sad recitative will again remind you of what once was.
But it already was, and how much more will be? It’s necessary to live a full weekend, all weekdays,
so that life is in a bright frame, so that there are forces until your photo is on the grave ...
The night inspired the thoughts of our poet, a weak light flashed in the poet's soul.
Adjust focus, white balance ... Take a deep breath, take care of your nerves.
Gather the will into a fist, find a good angle. Smile even if you want to cry.
Against the backdrop of a vibrant landscape, live in full force, appreciate the moments that are so beautiful ...
Cigarette smoked, the laptop went out. Tea has long been finished, the night light has gone out.
Well, the light in the poet’s soul only flared up. & quot; Everything will be cool & # 33; & quot; - he confessed to himself.
Still shots were left on the film of fate, the poet smiled from such a simple truth ...
Tomorrow is a new day, like a good photo. Live for a reason, live for something ...

Instantly and this moment is already eternal.
Our life is like a flash, like a bright light.
Scraps of memory, bits of someone’s biography.
Life rushes, photographs remain.

Our life is just pictures.

Bulek. Two round eleven. ZMusic.