Текст песни frankie caulfield - о счастье

Large circle
With hot tea.
The smell of mandarins
Filled kitchen.
When memories
Rob in despair
Hands draw thousands of new pictures.

you understand.
they are waiting for you.

In another city,
A little later than now.

native hands will hug
And the same black tea will be boiled.
without lemon or sugar.
with spicy aroma
to drive away from you past
bad memories.

I want to wake me up the radio in the morning
And the smell of apple quarreling.
While someone is drunk by vodka,
I chose our dream.

left a little.
The pocket is already a train ticket.

Darkness hobs the brushed hands.

And you stand next to.