Lyrics .вдмйх - после вчера приходит вчера

past.
it's fine.
Every year
with expectation
after "yesterday" comes
"yesterday".
today is the day of death
of my valve.
we run to each other
for a meeting
in parallel to stop smoking.
what am I
you
answer?
concerts in a cozy bedroom.
film screenings in basements
on the central streets.
I'll print postcards
and I will drop
their
from the corners
rusty roofs.
forgetting what it looks like
your grainy face.
pulling on a t-shirt
at night
all pharmacy recipes
from the balcony.
enough of all this.
I got it as a gift
half a loaf of black bread
and there are still a few
ice
dry,
red
of wine.
I forgot on what floors
we used to sit.