Lyrics Факто-2 - Окна

Once upon a time in a very old unknown country
On our good vast green Earth
Once upon a time there lived a simple man
Sometimes I thought about something and wandered around the world in my thoughts
He was an artist and painted only on his window
And every day he could see something new in him
Yes, here's a riddle before you go to sleep
He loved to paint in his window dark night
Where there are many stars and only the moon shines in the sky
She alone gives warmth but still cold
I painted dreams there that I wanted to see at night
Go to bed nozzles and groaned as usual
On waking up in the morning, he picked up a new brush.
And painted my night sleep as soon as possible
Yes, with light paint, the window usually covered
Yellow sand and blue sky there he painted
When he missed, his sky was in the clouds
I still dreamed and the rain was waiting for a moment in heaven
To spill to the ground in a painted window
Sometimes he just thought about his beloved wife
On weekend, as usual, drunkards with a brush
I found myself next to them and also drank something
Well and drunk slurred and said nonsense
On drunk songs there sang those that were on hearing
Wuhu loved her, his wife cooked him
She was very beautiful kind and modest
And when he felt guilty about everything
The rice grid in your window and then
He could sit for hours thinking about something and watching
In this window and from drawings
Vomiting so that you don’t go to sleep in the evening
He sometimes drew a girl in the window and more than one
They quickly undressed there with an instant of hand
Lisky caresses were given relieving from melancholy
Sometimes he was surprised at his drawings
Well, what can he do he could not draw others


Look at life at your window
You described yourself in it a long time ago
What do you see yourself, what are you standing, look
You stand at the window like at the door
You will see all life in your hands
Something doesn’t work, it’s not collapse
Look at the sins of your sins
You can’t cover them, see

In such drawings he lived and draw himself there
The artist was very fond of what else can we say here
He’s in the window and the king and God don’t give a damn about everything
The vicious circle of desires sometimes ailments
But in the window he only painted good drawings
As if the beauty saved from bandits
Or a very old place for a granny
In a chic car he often drove there he loved
In general, died somewhere in forty with a brush at that window
His son and wife left to live after him
She was left almost alone and began to miss her husband
My son decided what to learn outside the window.
Maybe everything is prettier outside the window than on the window
He began to wash secretly from his mother at night in the dark
Somewhere the solvent began to take off layer after layer
On the window, all the faces of the people are generally simple
Only everything was not there as it should have been
Time back five did not stop him
It was the other way around people walked backwards
Aunts beat hooligans this is a complete madness