Текст песни Лев Зонов - Дороги приводят домой

I look at the moon of stiffness of thoughtful sobes,
Wants it probably that I would count her
How much the trail addressed the animal for the animal
Trail from ours, broken about the stones boots.

In the wilds of the deaf, in the orbit of taiga wrap
How to protect me from all obstruction,
If we have every year parting,
As not count, it turns out more than meetings.

Letters write on the leaflets from the school notebook,
Well, and then, looking at the sparks of the fire,
In a sleeping bag, under the tarp vaults of the tent
Often I can not sleep until the morning.

You do not sigh that fate got us
Let someone else do the sighs.
You only believe and hope at least the smallest, -
Early, Il late - the roads lead home ...