Lyrics Крек - тоска по тебе
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The lyrics of the song are provided for your reference Крек - тоска по тебе, and also a translation of a song with a video or clip.
Отчего такое чувство
Что внутри всё сжимается?
Сердце из груди вырывается…
Почему так пусто в душе?
Навивается какая-то тоска,
И с ней не справиться,
Как не стараюсь я…
Не получается…
Одна надежда на время.
Одна вера – в себя
Как человека.
Одна любовь эта.
Отпущены мне вверх годы
Идут…Шаг переходит в бег.
А меня так и не поняли.
Оставили без моего согласия в покое
Заставили поверить в то, что я обречён
Болен неизлечимо горем,
И не на что не годен.
И сердце моё камнем на дороге,
Лишает многих…Лишаю счастья
Желанием остаться там, где мне теперь
Тоска совсем не греет…
А холод с каждым днём всё сильнее, всё сильнее
Тоска, не одевай на меня маску.
Она не скрасит гримасу…
Мне надоело убиваться –
Хочу жить, а не маяться.
А эта жизнь как сказка страшная, где всё в красках мрачных
Я становлюсь старым в местах злачных.
Дни, как листы бумаги, пачкаю, пачкаю
Ангел мой горькими слезами плачет.
Двери закрыл на замки,
Не отвечал на звонки.
Во власти тоски мои мысли.
Под гнётом этой стихии
Я сжёг свои стихи,
Вспоминаю один за другим в грехе.
Тоска крепко держит,
Не отпускает меня,
Я в её тисках
Кровь не стучит в висках
Тоска - мой диагноз
И я попал под её пресс
Ощущаю на себе
Бетонных плит вес.
Не ем и не пью,
Лишь натощак сигареты.
Не беру в прокат кассеты,
Не читаю газеты.
Безразличен ко всему,
Ко всему апатия.
Причина тому тоска,
Не знаю, как прогнать её.
В результате я прикован
К своей кровати.
Нет сил встать – остаётся только ждать.
Остаётся только ждать.
Why such a feeling
What inside is shrinking?
Heart breaks out of my chest ...
Why is it so empty in the shower?
There is some kind of longing,
And with her not cope,
How I do not try ...
Does not work…
One hope for time.
One faith in yourself
Like a man
This one love.
Let me go up the years
Go ... Step goes into running.
And I did not understand.
Left without my consent alone
They made me believe that I was doomed
Ill incurably grief,
And no good.
And my heart is like a stone on the road
Deprives many ... Deprives happiness
The desire to stay where I am now
Tosca does not warm at all ...
And the cold every day more and more, more and more
Tosca, don't put a mask on me.
She will not make a grimace ...
I'm sick of being killed -
I want to live, not to suffer.
And this life is like a terrible tale, where everything is in dark colors
I become old in places of low.
Days, like sheets of paper, dirty, dirty
My angel cries with bitter tears.
The doors are locked,
Did not answer calls.
In the grip of my thoughts.
Under the yoke of this element
I burned my poems
I remember one after another in sin.
Tosca holds tight,
Don't let me go,
I'm in her grip
Blood does not knock in temples
Tosca - my diagnosis
And I got under her press
I feel for myself
Concrete slab weight.
I do not eat and do not drink,
Only on an empty stomach cigarettes.
I do not rent a cassette,
I do not read newspapers.
Indifferent to everything
To all apathy.
The reason for that is longing
I do not know how to drive her away.
As a result, I am chained
To my bed.
No strength to get up - you just have to wait.
We can only wait.
What inside is shrinking?
Heart breaks out of my chest ...
Why is it so empty in the shower?
There is some kind of longing,
And with her not cope,
How I do not try ...
Does not work…
One hope for time.
One faith in yourself
Like a man
This one love.
Let me go up the years
Go ... Step goes into running.
And I did not understand.
Left without my consent alone
They made me believe that I was doomed
Ill incurably grief,
And no good.
And my heart is like a stone on the road
Deprives many ... Deprives happiness
The desire to stay where I am now
Tosca does not warm at all ...
And the cold every day more and more, more and more
Tosca, don't put a mask on me.
She will not make a grimace ...
I'm sick of being killed -
I want to live, not to suffer.
And this life is like a terrible tale, where everything is in dark colors
I become old in places of low.
Days, like sheets of paper, dirty, dirty
My angel cries with bitter tears.
The doors are locked,
Did not answer calls.
In the grip of my thoughts.
Under the yoke of this element
I burned my poems
I remember one after another in sin.
Tosca holds tight,
Don't let me go,
I'm in her grip
Blood does not knock in temples
Tosca - my diagnosis
And I got under her press
I feel for myself
Concrete slab weight.
I do not eat and do not drink,
Only on an empty stomach cigarettes.
I do not rent a cassette,
I do not read newspapers.
Indifferent to everything
To all apathy.
The reason for that is longing
I do not know how to drive her away.
As a result, I am chained
To my bed.
No strength to get up - you just have to wait.
We can only wait.