Текст песни Утро августа - Не обижайся на молчанье мама

Here are my hands, eyelids, silence,
sadness melts smotrelki unread;
I've never been a man,
cry my, squeezing, is replaced by moo

or silent, but silence is golden
It was when it was not gold;
there are now rumors, do not have bread to them,
blazn as a placebo, a patron saint of the city.

Mom, you have not kept silent
son that his bitter apostasy.
Mom, I Solodkiy Yar - the kingdom,
steppe listen - Bittern sob

then my speech and my revelation,
I know grief itself, but worse
drinking from a miserable puddle
with my naked soul -

under her snega-
                       mi forget uneaten,
affectionate blizzard, wolves listen,
drops soln-
                        tsa, have parted eyelids,
wash away the red soil. From dirt osvetennoy
soar moth. Liszt nesvyadayuschim
fall on the palm of your hand ... ... the sound of silence.