Текст песни Татьяна Похло - Последний романтик

Last romantic

Wind spring again in the face, I say: Hello!
Incredible and weightless, you do not get lost, and reign.
Suppose I am a hero of the previous chapter, in the previous volume,
How do I wake up in the beginning of a thunderstorm thundered thunder?

CHORUS:
This ice is cracking and melting and pondering a move
Perhaps growing up my sinful soul.
This is the first gray hair, angels and bread,
It's only the middle of the gold core
Targeted us years.

Everything is impossible to predict, and not in this case
Do not be rooted, like grace, his own shirt to the body.
Silent, reliable friend, not a strategist and tactician,
Candidate sermyazhnyh Sciences and the last romantic.

CHORUS