Текст песни стефания данилова - Мне больше не впору писать про любовь

I am no longer fit to write something to you:
Now - warmed, burned - and no!
And I became short sleeves,
and hands have taken hold upon the planet.

And more in the bell does not ring me,
Our silence and mutual.
And so izyazvivshy mezzanine eyes
He remained simple mezzanine.

And as if by the wave of whose
It was neither books, no music
about our history! But why
my world was wide, not narrow?

I do not go over to look at your house,
on their own do not get enough.
You refrigerated whiskey with ice
and exactly the same heart.

But full of you, and so you are full -
in any of my previous
written books or make a movie.
You - my sin, and he released me!

And as a token of amazement arched an eyebrow,
and fingers fluttered like a bird ...

I'm not fit to write more about love -
there are things much more poetic.