Анастасия Романькова - Письма туда и оттуда - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

THERE:

I didn’t want to write to you, but I miss you again. Bad with nerves, fingers are yellow, a roar in the throat. You know, after you, I carry everywhere, like what a dog, your ropes of your fragment. You know, after we - only our shadows seem to me on the wallpaper, along the walls of schools. And helpfully, looking at the night, draws the darkness - a stone in a crown, in bed a snowstorm, a gold injection.

I'm all right, smooth. I live as it should. I lost weight, I almost do not drink, I fall asleep late. The classmate has introduced her brother's friend. Take a walk. But this, apparently, is not serious. Remember, Bab, how did we go through the ravine to the monastery? "Fat Pop" then drove us away. You were a strong dowel. Tell me how paradise and hell are there. Are the wings heavy? Well, God, what is he? Is he really bearded?

Everything seems to me, Bab, that you are watching me like a TV set. Until the sun sits down ... well, something shines there? Damn, I would see who thought - a sick girl. He composes to the next world, and thinks that they will answer ...

From there:

I answer. Well, nothing shines for me here. Only your love is when you remember me. Even if you do it in the toilet. By the way, Masha, when will you change the bulb there? Here all the time - all the same day, only very long. So you walk with shit in pants, and with a loop on the neck. Here he met with Ezhen - he dried up like a ballerina. Well, in the grave, there is a clear thing, they don’t get good.

I saw your boy. Dressed not bad. He is sitting in a bank, of course, they pay greasily there. Only you, when you are with him, do not think about me. The three of us will be crowded on the same bed. I would not want to look - I look. Such is the reward. And he cuts under the ribbons, as if there were alive there. Suicidniki, Masha, neither paradise here, nor hell. I die endlessly, but I could, an asshole, with you ...

Forgive you, I was Buhoi, you metil with a rose in your throat. And now it’s like a buzz to listen to how you breathe there. You live as you live, Masha, do not go into my ashes. You get it, I know. And by the way - you write cool.