Текст песни В. Березкин - Ждем...

***
Wet heavy rags in the sky
Black dirty clouds,
And for some reason it becomes somehow wrong
Somehow in the soul it becomes viscous, viscous.
It was as if with a hand he got into something sticky-
Nasty feeling ...
Dull ...
.
At such moments, you begin to think about everything,
Someone-where-it-and-so-why, for something, is ...
Then you understand that I used to think about something like that ...
Which one? No ... just a stream of thoughts-questioning.
It goes too densely ...
Sad...
.
It is impossible to catch something one-concreted, it is impossible
But you think further, you think, you think, think ...
How difficult it is ... it would seem, here it is - everything is nearby,
But no - everything is so distant, alien, cold -
You can’t get it with your hand, but get it - pull your hand away,
Not at all what it was thinking about -
This is something alien, cold to the touch ...
And again searches-updates ...
Federal wanted list. Are looking for. Special signs?
Whom we are looking for that we have lost - we do not know,
Something that has no special signs ...
You won’t touch your hand, you won’t get your forehead ...
You can only feel. Somewhere inside,
What is it! - Finded ... what to the touch?
Soft, warm, kind, unlike anything.
As if warm tea winter evening,
Like a spoonful of jam, how ... how ...
Touch yourself - what do you feel?
Nothing? Everything is right - this is not yours,
You will understand and feel yourself,
When time comes ...
Do not look by the clock - this is another ...
.
And this circle of this, it continues until the end of the measured time,
It begins, ends, interrupts, continues ...
And all these searches, most often, have no sense,
Rarely someone finds, and who finds does not always know how to recognize ...
.
Nobody wants to think about this,
Therefore, we look at dirty black clouds,
We are waiting for the sun ...
We are waiting for the rain to end ...