Текст песни замкнутость 8 - бежим до весны

run . until the spring of frozen fingers
clings to the edges of that earlier fires were burning . who you are without heat monitor
forsake me not on line online
tides wash away all hung inventions

leave with showers with every drop
important unimportant second
promised halos
here it is tar
passing fleeting days
just for you
and so on until the end point ,
can still easier loving
even then later after
after his time
osyadu on the pocket trifle low baritone voices drunks in the yard
syringes on the playgrounds ,
Combustible butterfly on a light bulb
reincarnation us
still pit their foreheads
any time
but remember me in such a
on neglected parking ,
shaky in the wind field
for centuries not knowing where dreams ,
and where the reality of his grief trumped
and better still an illusion
once vseravno all croak

I never started a game in which would be lost, not won .
no, it is not cowardice , and sanity simple.
type I know that the past does not come back,
It seems like it should be protected by guessing a new maneuver ,
look away , acute eye - somewhere traitors,
and , as usual, at hand . oh well , hell with it already .
or god , who's there? but this is not disturbing.
and it is possible to share a little thought for me?
and the skin cold, if touched the soul of stories from the past.
can not do, do not dodge.
Overture ended prematurely , dick with it.
maturing not yet sat down . but the beat of the pulse.
far from being an abstract , if a bit thoughtful,
straining prospirtovanny child's brain .
nose szheniya hairdryer make your mouth to tell all our secrets .
pregrel as a snake around his neck , answering hiss : & quot; I love you & quot ;.
lullaby and now only the wind sings ,
penetrating between the panes of the window.
doorbell , someone brought me again ?
a consecutive day , make their abode in the bunker.
I beat his fist wall, if painful , then died.
if it is bad , it means not dead , but still something not