Пицца - мы рисовали наш мир. - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Maybe this spring is poured with roofs, pouring empty Paris.

So casually elevated phrases of the books we painted our world.

The roads are waiting for us with you not easy, far away, at the crossroads we do not need tears that routine is not on the way to us

We shadow on the cold perrone

And the time will not catch us up.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us, and we all remember how now.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us

Outdoor window Accordion and Wine, Sky of Billiant, Chanel.

And somewhere the voice is sitting, trembling in penetrating and warms cold April.

I remember .. And now the roads are waiting for us with you are not easy, far away, at the crossroad we, our words of the web, are not on the way to us.

We are shadows on the cold perrone, and the time will not catch us up.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us, and we all remember how now.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us and we remember everything we remember.

We are shadows on the cold perrone, and the time will not catch us up.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us, and we all remember we remember.

Maybe I will come back someday, I choke this city, do not extend. He remembers us, he remembers us and we remember everything