Текст песни РисБо - мрр

People, like birds that fly south,
In search of happiness from time immemorial.
My heart is the first in a row of fans
Yours. Thanks for the shelter.

Your emerald sparkles.
In mine only quartz looks enviously
But if necessary, just whistle,
And the cities will die for your whim.

I kiss the collarbone and shoulders
To not stand in the way.
And when you ask to leave
I hug tight.

Kisses on the lips and forehead
I say all that is in my soul
Stretch the smile to the ears
To give you warmth.

People, like birds that fly south,
In search of happiness from time immemorial.
My heart is the first in a row of fans
Yours. Thank you for the comfort.