Текст песни Ветра - Калитка

I’m tired and silent, I’d fall on the bed,
nose into the pillow, to the window lower back,
there is no insomnia, just summer does not dream,
and if you don’t dream, then why sleep.
I watch myself fertilizing with ash
the soil of old doubts and new illusions,
I draw circles in the corn fields
a trembling hand icy from the wind.

from tram calls
protrudes on the skin
salty childhood.
in unread lines
under each point
rough happiness.
I'm under the tiles
behind the iron gate
and nowhere to go ...

to myself and in the darkness, I think at home,
sailing with light on rails and sleepers,
and there are no numbers in either large or small,
and it could drive you crazy
but I'm just a little upset
the impossibility of bringing something together
in the open wind on a drifting ice floe
I’ll wrap myself in a blanket from a draft.

from tram calls
protrudes on the skin
salty childhood.
in unread lines
under each point
rough happiness.
I'm under the tiles
behind the iron gate
and nowhere to go ...