Вера Полозкова - Барбара Грэйн - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Barbara Gray

Barbara Grane is grateful to her illness - if not for her, then he would have to be tormented by existing trifles:

Think of a husband, who is only more useless, wake up when he screams at night;

To be angry with the sons, their grin of wolf, the words are scabbling, if not for the need for money, they would not have noticed it at all.

And migraine - better than sex and alcohol, better shopping, your mother, and trips out of town for nature:

It’s five hours you vomit in pain, with a respite to tearing, stop trembling, lying face in ice water;

The lenses burst in the eyes, strings under the forehead, and then lets you free, and here you will find out true freedom.

Because Barbara is forty -five, nothing will begin again, the head is half -shed, not gold.

If you look into the future, his eyes are cold, her burden has long been sitting on her, like a glove.

But she knows happiness - it is almost tangible when death chews you twice a month without swallowing.

Barbara looks at himself from the mirror, the light becomes unbearable, the eyelid pulls.

After half an hour, she thinks, everything has already faded, on the surface of neither an object, nor sound, nor a person.

Only pure pain, so that you are already a word carpet, four centuries have passed in four hours.

And then, Barbara tells himself, after an attack, when the darkness of the raw and damn thing ends,

I will go to the whole world of fresh, silver, for me just poured from a jug,

And I will begin to be alive, alive intently, so that if love is mountain, my heart is its top.