Lyrics ВАНТУЗ - ТОСКА

Here, just me and a light bulb that gives warm light
Only I and the light bulb and no one else here
Once her thread inside will burn out
And immediately the treacherous darkness temporarily reigns
Will find a burnt light bulb replacement stronger
Treason is no doubt the norm for people.
Instead of the usual light bulb light compressed gas
Cold indifference invisible to the eyes
A simple lamp exhausted handing out its heat
Wasted time and time expired
Now economical behaves smarter
Pledged resource into it for a couple of thousand days
And the old bulb is already in the bucket
She did not understand in time for this game.
Thank you for the lights and pleased us
But sometimes the time comes to say goodbye

This longing longing to pain at the temple when on the forehead has gathered the folds of the sign
I was looking for and not saved grin sand trail filled I forever lagged behind

Here, just me and a light bulb that gives warm light
I have a book in my hands now fifteen years old
I went deep into reading for the evening with my head
I am helped by the thread that shines above me
I did not expect then that the end of that moment
And that there will be no light bulbs and time for books.
And all the characters of the story once shut up
When I close the book I discover chat
Now I am not an observer but her hero
Paragraphs for paragraphs scribbling someone else
Sitting at the monitors we say hi
Starting their stories of no end
And somewhere in the dusty cabinet lies the started volume.
Perhaps he forever set aside for later
Thank you for all the knowledge you gave me.
I'm sorry I didn't read you at fifteen

This longing longing to pain at the temple when on the forehead has gathered the folds of the sign
I was looking for and not saved grin sand trail filled I forever lagged behind

Now my light bulb has a cool white light.
All day behind the monitor, I change color face
The more in the world of new I seem blunt
More time I spend on temporary friends
Information flows thousands of new books
There are no movies behind them
I poke my finger in the sky while swimming on a slippery ice floe
I'm a little fly in a huge web
Keeps my secrets huge Internet
Where are the years waiting for an answer to sent hi
And again without waiting, I continue to wait
I switch off for the night to start the sutra
Increasingly, this scene seems to me a game.
In which I probably learned to be myself
But I can imagine how in ten years
I will write about this completely different verse