Текст песни d-tab - от весны

Put the points. I live from spring to spring, I dream about my daughter.
I am writing with a clumsy handwriting at night, parallel to you I am printing smiles with kisses ...
The themes are simple. And once these sheets are written, then there is a feeling of guilt. I'm sorry!
The rains wash the tags off the walls, and people also make bridges with the dawn ...
Barefoot meet winter, angry late autumn smoke. The forces smolder like ash on whitefish.
Where are you? With whom is my fairy? If you believe me, then I have no reason to believe the wizards!
I was wrong, but you remember! Like a wind in the port, hugged your hair ...
The sign of injury: a scar on his shoulder and a mat lit by scratches in the themes of eternal love ..
What is buried inside, if it looks like thin shoulders and incomprehensible words in slang?
Incognito meetings, smiles on their faces, sincerely believed the songs from the folder "INFINITY".
A particle of your heat is always with me ... time gave a head start for a better occasion.
I'll shut up if you want. Do you want to? But hardly ... I can not get a star for you this night.
On these notes I will paint the outlines, again your hair from the shoulders in my hand!
I sifted out the whole rabble. There are no colors, there are shades! There is no scar on the heart, but there will be a trace ...

If it is winter, it is only snowy ...
If summer, then only sunny ...
If autumn, then with fallen leaves ...
If spring, then only with feelings ...

We like to hurt others. We hide the truth in order to come up with an alibi.
Nenach to be angry, to cry for no purpose. So we burn time, carrying our thoughts away ...
-Hello...
-Until...
-Snot...
-Laski ...
- called
- Correspondence ...

Love at a distance.
The time will come and we will remove the masks .. but! Who is he and who is she?
I don't care who will be the first for you. In the list, since the summer the core has been writing poetry, now we are here
You to me - faith. I tell you - doubts. Believe me, there is something to say, which means there will be time for showers.
The voice boils, dry mouth asks for water, but I can not let go.
At the doorways I mate, quit smoking. I smoke, I’m afraid, I’m afraid to be on Sechenov.
And someone was treated. And the skin from salt cracked there!
Hiding the face, hiding the eyes from your eyes ... a new level without a continuum ...
I do not ask the muse to rhyme for a sad song. It, like dreams, visits once a month!
- Mute receptors?
-Not!
But we endure pain and appreciate every moment.
We chat, we laugh, we are mutated, and it seems that I left my mark in the slot of this city!
I left a part of myself in these concrete lines! I felt in my heart FROM SPRING TO SPRING.