Текст песни Абвиотура - Белицы

The wind swept the clouds into heaps
Repainted faces
Twisted branches tightly into braids
Dust took the pain away
The evening is crying on my shoulder
Calls a bird of prey
Burns out on a candle
Wax viscous tears

Scarlet heat across the fields
The sun rolled
With an evil squint in half
Broken eyebrow
Joy in scorched eyes
Splashes on the bottom
Kohl thunder in the chest
Blood plays

Bright month faded
Turned pale and disappeared
Inhale to exhale changed
Melting on the side
I'll go out in the morning to the hop
I will smartly move my hat
I will name a dozen words
I'll bake into a song