Текст песни Общее дело - Простые вещи

Hope to die
   Die there hope
   Staying without salt and bread
   And almost without clothes
Etc:
 I have to meet a flock of flying alone
I meet him at the appointed place
I quietly cry, I see off the summer
I waved a hand, we should not together

   Throw up their hands and feet
   Autumn politely blows the roof
   I do not listen to the singing of birds
   And almost can not see anything
   
   Ajar excess pain
   Alluding to the proximity of the edge
   And it is not correct, if the devils
   Receive greetings from paradise
   
   If you only sniff the sky
   Or simply a joy to bury
   There are terribly simple things
   And I miss them desperately.