Haar - Синеволосая - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

Text: Olga Rusnak

Music: Haar.

Clementine lies in a black water bath. These dirt - her seven sweats. Clementina yard love cats, and she is heating cats. And men bypass her face, they say, crank and chur me, Chur. Clementine as a ghost of a silent movie, and she is sent to the doctor.

Colors hair in blue, as Klem painted out of a picture of her beloved. There, strange people had a sea of ​​problems, but they got their own.

And this eccentric does not get love. No one will stretch his arms. There is no shredney and strange her head, but men do not like these.

Love warm, simple, without planets in the head, without blue sky hair. And she tramples the pain of a single in wine, not changing men called.

If someone can love such a Clementina, with a madman in the SIZY Ochoms, down the flying, who is going through the sky, leaving here and now, it means that he did not want her forms, her mouth and godded scarce wealth. Maybe simply tired of the tired feelings, from those who wish to cut down the power and strive for an eccentric, and asks to eat the Martian heart with warmth. He is insane to become her, but aligned and not for each other led to each other.

Blue hair, clothes as a colorful explosion, painting bright sparkles tattoo. And Clementine is wandering, heartburn, breaking the bustle.

She is stolen, repaint, crosses raise, be normal, forget our cosmos. But she still goes crazy, passing his winding path.

As an associate, waiting for someone who will understand who will dilute her darkness. Only shadows, and ice harness to eliminate coal, the snow promises for the misfortune.

Clementine from the film shines in love, so careless and so good. How rushes the soul, as the soul wishes, how shifting it is cherub. Only the film is a film, and the reality of the scary, no one, is just stamped after. Ruck through the crowd as a soldier from trenches, it is difficult to be different on Earth.

And once surrendered, and ink dirt this bath - her seven sweats. Little light in us, a lot of nasty in us, and sometimes at all - the flood.

Clementine wanted to wash off the paint from the hair and about Mars forever forget. Just hears from the heavens "Wait" and the question: "Who now sticks oaks? Who will hear, will understand that the rim cat is met, warming up in his hands? "

Clementine so furious hair tert to wash off the clouds from the head.

Clementine wanted to wash off the sky from the hair, only the blue for the brain was soaked and wondered.

You are different, my Clementine, and you will not capture the routine, and you are not given to be some one, you are different, my Clementine.

So run the same careless barefoot!

What will I say about love? Until spring.

Everyone falls in love, right, spring.