Vanich - В Сентябре - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

As if it ended or has not yet begun.

I looked and could not look away.

The first snow fell, spinning, it was hot

From the fact that I don’t need to rush anywhere.

Yes, you can’t wait for everything in the world,

But I was waiting, and already passers -by disappeared.

But soon the evening will close the evening,

And I will not wait for my dreams.

He treats, time heals joints, but does not heal the soul, and she is all in patches, sewn up, shut up. In black white, a smile is painted, not at that time, the wrong place for a person is hanged.

Frantic fatigue, endless road,

Minutes, seconds ... there are so many moments,

That I did not have time to open his eyes, it's time to close.

It seems that it just started yesterday.

What's in the crowd, that alone is lonely,

Although with me the one I was waiting and waited.

I am no longer looking for friends for some reason,

I escort the trains, but I do not meet.

I know that someone's tears are laughter,

I know that he will cost me a lot,

But it is still better to cry with happiness,

How to laugh at someone else's grief and cruelty.

Snow will leave puddles on black asphalt.

You know, someone was a swan, but will become a duckling.

I would like to remain a child forever,

I would like to look at the world with happy eyes.

In the maze of fate, find not a minotaur,

And the only one I love.

And so that it does not happen that after a big grief

Nobody recognizes reflection in the mirror.

So she goes away: the days stretch like a resin,

And in difficult times, they suddenly freeze in amber.

I would sang my life on the guitar, but not to set it up,

And on two strings is not a song.

It is interesting to grow, to achieve something,

Or command someone, fall in love.

But suddenly a passerby little boy by chance

He will break you into fragments with a rubber ball.

And then you just understand suddenly

That all his life stood the idol on the spot,

In life, a monument that he erected himself,

By himself, as a hero of some.

What did you fight for? Where are your ideas?

Together with the leaves that turn yellow every fall,

Came off and flew away with the wind,

Together with your minutes, seconds and songs.

Each autumn leaves hope for a new spring (for a new spring).