осеннеенастроение - Питер Пен и фея - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

What has a beginning has an end. Early or Subject, Happy end, or leaving a scar in the heart. And I am still the same merchant of hackneyed rhymes and the old metaphors, the same as our world, a garnoy clap, a good fellow who has realized so little, relative to the days lived, but found peace and absolute truth ... yes in it.

In my rescue circle honey in the ocean of tar; All keys and passwords are scratched in my shower with a fingernail. With lips, the scorched answer, to a question that haunted, during periods of such an unexpected spring heat. And if love is a bubble, pressing on which the fairy tale will end, we will blow it even more, but without much fanaticism, passionately and at the same time affectionately, or the ending, already known to us. And the hackers of being is not interesting; Why know something in advance, the salty beds of the stream of life in this case become fresh. I do not deny the acceptability of this spiritual diet, but with a person every hand there is always a choice, and it does not matter what is with you and where you are, in an embrace with darkness or light, he lets you go only when they lower the curtain of your theater, some next summer . And I had no choice but to build those seconds in a square, and to enjoy, the moment, to be a little more with you. I would hold our hands with glue with the name symbolic; I am your Peter Pen, and you are my fairy, and there is no explanation of logical, and you do not need to. Everything necessary is already available; And it is not necessary to draw a line - to divide into vulgar and decent. On a miracle and something ordinary. But dreams and fantasies have no edge, and you are not nearby again, and I am comforted by poison, in doses of small ones; The nicotine leaves sadness and longing without grounding, point blows, during the day, following straight after the night, and I am silent aloud that there is urine, the sun is making faces. All the same, walking silently, I think about you. Today I rejoiced at Solza, the sky and the sea wave, about our travels on the ship for the clouds and slightly higher, to that very, our planet. For a bright upcoming pray of the Almighty, no longer needs a word, quieter, quieter ...