Текст песни Леонид Клюквин - 16.02.23 - Апрель-22

C F
The bitterness of March is not easy to describe in words.
C F
Pieces of gray sky on gray branches.
C F C F C
The evil wind, like a joker, walks in my sleeves.

The spirit of a merry winter froze in itself.
The stalactites of the icicles formed a grin.
Waiting for the sun, the city looks like a train station.

Lost white snow trapped in ice
Does not crunch, but wheezes in a half-asleep delirium.
But I know that March is only a month of the year.

E A
I know the sun will come and the cold will go away.
E A
Wind, clouds and spleen will disappear without a trace
C F C F C
Like a house of cards, the magic of ice will crumble.

Drops hit the pavement to the rhythm of the swing.
I stand and shake my head to the beat.
I love you baby and this April is only yours.