Текст песни Юлиана Рамазанова - письма без всякой сути

I write you letters here
so you will not have to rip and burn them.

I am writing to you on the glass of the bus,
the tea leaves, the hem of the skirt,
I am writing to you so the seventh day
Letters without substance.

I remember you on time
before reaching the other account,
your image does not show the alkali
hide it in a canvas bag,
I hold seven latches.

your name lives on my cheek,
Whether pouring Cahors, whether milk,
a name that stuck in my throat
grains of pomegranate.

Garrote is choking me,
I - I seek out the inhaler.

you for me exactly the prefix to the word,
without you there is a basis,
but a distorted sense looks different
as the post-war city.

it rivers flow into the sea,
people - fall into the sea, into a coma,
dying - each in his own sarcoma,
hung on the terraces.

because if you meet me near the house
let me be your distant friend
or remember about significant persuasion
and that we should not be kissing.

my life does not change course,
I was off the beaten path in this feeling,
but I do not know this art
in you absolutely do not need.