Текст песни Александр Дольский - Самолёт мой

August in star storms
Drives us out of the house.
My plane is a neck cross
At the airfield.
Is it not to the flying beauty
Will anyone look up?
My plane is a neck cross
The sky is blue.

The wind is angry - prince specific
In a roadless gati.
My plane is a neck cross
On godless love.
The color is dim, watercolor
Under the winged arrow.
My plane is a neck cross
On damned love.

I want to get off for a long time, yeah
Small landscape surrounding.
I am crucified. And there is no miracle
That my cross flies.
Goes into the distance infinitely
Into the horizon is implicit.
My plane is a neck cross
On you. And I'm in it.