Текст песни Елена Фролова - Час души

There is the hour of the Soul, like the hour of the Moon,
Owls hour, darkness hour, darkness
The hour ... The hour of the Soul, like the hour of a string
David through dreams
Saul ... shiver at that hour
Vanity, wash off the blush!
There is an hour of Soul, like an hour of thunder,
Child, and this hour is mine.
Hour of the deepest basics
Thoracic. Dams descent!
All things fell off the grooves
All treasures from the mouth!
From the eyes of all the curtains! All traces
Back! On the line of notes
No! Hour of the Soul, like the hour of Trouble,
Child, and this hour beats.
My misfortune! - so you will call.
So, with a medicinal knife
Tortured, children, mother
They reproach: "Why do we live?"
And the palms are fresh
Delirium tremens: "It is necessary. Lie down."
Yes, the hour of the Soul, like the hour of a knife,
A child, and this knife is good.