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Traces of oiled roads
Call us!
Write!
And the night, all hands in parts, but we will no longer be there,
And it may not work out, but I
I do not believe !
And the streets are slanting at all the doors,
In practice,
Burn to ashes from cigarettes, wait for dawn on the roofs
And recognize your steps

Until spring ,
Don't look at the clock
Recognize ... count,
Don't wait for dawns

Where is the sun
Stars fell like a cardboard ceiling
It's not too late!
Once through the puddles before you
It doesn't matter to me anymore
On the contrary the clock
Running back
Traces
Will smear someone's name on the roads ... not much,
Hiding pride under the sheet
And maybe the night will add speed
And brighten up its rustles for us ...

Until spring ,
Don't look at the clock
Recognize ... count,
Don't wait for dawns

Look for me ...