Текст песни Антон Трофимов на фестивале Камертон 2016 - На прочтение старых писем

Caught on - summer, the beginning of June,
And it seems: already at the end of autumn.
And the magic that we breathed in the letter,
Leaves, leaves, leaves, leaves.

He goes, people go out of the house,
When they have nothing no longer holds.
And all that could happen in a different way -
Just hope, hope, hope.

How it all happened in actual fact -
Never mind. We will want another.
Worn folds - wrinkles on the body
Past, former, former, yore.

But at the peak of the season, not looking at the date,
You pull the autumn with his old pain.
And you put a postscript, both in letters once:
"With love, with love, with love, with love ..."