анна сеничева - каждый вечер в мой дом приплывает туман - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

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Every evening, fog floats into my house and steals objective sharpness, climbs to me on a woven sofa, straightens the bend of the curtain. He speaks of worlds where cornflies ring, where the color of Ivan-one is lost, where a red boat is pumped on the rusty chain at the edge of the wave of the wave river.

I am more and more silent, the shore is silent from unnecessary sound and broken, and it flies without looking back, the word given to my eternity flies into the embroidery.

I forget painful names, someone's sharp moralizing. I have saving silence, only it matters.

And it stands an idol in the column of water, and the echo walks outside the shore ...

I would also leave, just where to leave the fog?

#Annasenicheva