Текст песни Алиса Волкова - Осязаемый четверг

Thought this dome o-syaz-eem
in a distant prism without-to-name-not-me.
I breathe in impulsively, fluently, above the ground,
and then slowly and deliberately in an arc,
and there are no winds here, so the rhythm
other,
smooth,
embroidered le-gen-doy.
She, given by an ancient number,
stays on the veranda on Thursday to drink liqueur,
in the open area to swallow espresso.
At 20:24 (twenty twenty four)
bends of narrowed u-li-ts,
picking up the code for sentimentality
in the dotted line,
answering the note b-l-i-c,
I cracked the artful dislike, removed the tags,
so I stand and cry on the square near the texture of another century,
equating quotes to street musicians,
who found Mecca.