Шалая - Дымом - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

With smoke that has not yet become ingrained in your voice, you

you breathe, not noticing that it is bitter. I would tear the sky into shreds with my finger to catch the rays by a strip of light. The serpent curls in a brisk ashen pattern, stinging with its breath from time to time and dying, making it even deader.

The smoldering column of ash has long gone out.

The days drag on in a smoldering string, burning out and turning into smoke. The rain, shedding tears on the chest of the earth, gives hugs to the old and the young. Weaving light, fresh drizzle, the spirit of magical herbs into the colors of wheat curls, mixing with bitterness the tart smell of cigarettes, I ask,

forget yourself

becoming a girl whose eyes have a sparkle brighter than all the stars that have fallen in the vault of heaven; a girl for whom all life is a game woven from joy and miracles.

It’s simple, why don’t you become the one who walks on the edge and believes that

No

no

the edges.

A stray strand of hair has escaped from its mop onto your face.

The noisy avenue is sometimes empty and becomes unfamiliar without people. Rain and thunder are sweet to my taste. You are barefoot on the wet asphalt, laughing so desperately and easily, as if for the last time or for the first time. The snake, hesitating, spins like a moth and performs its ephemeral waltz, and, hissing at the raw material, gives up the ghost, having performed the dance of burnt whim in vain; circles until his ardor goes out, there is no dance and there is no smoke without fire. In crumpled lungs, the caustic dope cannot warm you with its dead warmth.

To find your path, you need to take a step.

To get warm, you must first burn.