Текст песни Андрей Петров - Птицей

In the silence of the dense forest
On the everlasting oak branches
Hid the spirit of man
Wallowed in my own dreams

There are sweet birds chimes
And the smells of eternal spring
There is the freshness of an innocent nature
The purity and lightness of the soul

(And I would become a spreading bird
Soar above the city of lies
Fly straight to the sun
To make dreams come true
And the hardships of life are gone)

The river has become a mindset font
Having cleared the hut
The foliage here rustles with a cradle
And the wind lips to the forehead

The sun is played on the crowns
Rays like brush strokes
And a bright sky window
Pulls into its beauty