марта 11.06.12 - февральская любовная лихорадка - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

February love fever

They say to me, I fell ill with March: I will not go to my parents and go to the calendar, my whole life is painted - I have forgotten the cards and I don’t cook the potion in the evenings. I do not write poetry, I lost my rhythm, I read fairy tales, during lunch, and not with verbs separately or together already, you believe, it does not matter. truth. no. I read Markes to the crust, I memorized the terms sobbing, I rubbed the grass on a magic grater - it is now circling around me. I sow the wind - it means that I reap something. And all that Dadeno fish in my palm. I don’t be sad, I just don't. Around winter. What is the fire in winter?

I say, I was in a winter. Not like flu, cold, all things ... But just the heart cooled and looks like as a ash. So black, but you get it - will fly around. And he will not remain in the palm of the hand. And somewhere outside the window the bird froze. I walked and froze. What is it?

don't know. Now I don’t know again how it is Buki, in or Az, I see everything that I see in syllables, and in what I see - I see only us. Under the legs, the nast lies with a crust, sleds, boots, reituses to the ears, and I fly inside as in childhood from a hill, scaring and pushing the kids.

I say I got terribly ill. I say I won’t survive now. But I know that February is such a thing, everything will be protected, you will barely open the door. But I know that February is dangerous to relax - it's time to relax, already the end of winter, and here is frost. Both sorcerers day and clear. And in the sky of birds and under the sky we. But I know that February - he is final. He will expire, and after will be March. And I will begin to write - again about the eternal - on the windowsill, spreading the stack of cards.