Текст песни Анастасия Казакова - III. Путеводитель

GUIDE

Earth made of steel.
And we didn’t
So that the coals are in lumps.
Could you?

I choose

Easy ways are chosen for me:
Easy to love, easy to patch under the heart.
They choose me ... Do I have to go
To overtake alternately a place?

I choose a time to meet
Foreign guests from crumpled smiles,
Hand frost, bean bed
And iterations of unheard-of violins.

I choose a change of power
To add up at once, summing up all the numbers.
They choose what I have outlived
Wasted what the thought flew to.

They choose me in bulk in handfuls
Minute hands one second.
Easy ways are chosen for me ...
Who chooses if the choice is mine? ..

What do you have

What is under your office desk?
What do you have under office years?
I'm leaving sweet home again
To buy a ticket for departure.

Across the rivers, the seas are thickening
And chests are hidden behind the bay.
Like the eternal Columbus or Zola -
So I will open the place from longing.

I'm leaving sweet home again
And you don’t give your hand.
What is under your office desk?
A bit of space for your poems.

A little prince

Among different planets and foundations,
Among obese and iridescent faces
I keep you by the power of words
I am writing to you, little prince.

Those are my dreams in pink
Under the spikes of reality of days
Already grown, not children again,
They probably became more visible.

You grow up and see with your eyes
The most important people, their covenant,
Losing seconds for hours
Not sparing the lost years.

You don't leave friends in the desert
You are the well of a bottomless soul.
I’ll tell others, but you don’t
Farewell to me, write ...

You taught me the mind of the heart
You were hiding behind a forest of eyelashes ...
Along the road of lost inertia
I came to you, little prince.

Compass

I'll give you a compass
And tied with felt
You will hear your voice
Inside, a cold in the wind.

Walking on slippery plains
Seeking confidence in the weak
Save yourself the strength to forget
And remember the main thing.

At the crossroads of splits
Find your half
Keys from the Heart of the Hasp
Take it, lose the imaginary.

The words lose their meaning
And in these - the main thing - faith.
You through the sand figures
Find out your native without measure.

You are a lost wanderer
In the desert, a surviving spike.
And no matter how scary, it’s strange ...
I will give you a compass ...

Happiness

There is happiness in this,
To follow him.
Believe while you are here
By virtue of saving yourself.

Excess will play a laugh
The best is a beat under the hearts.
Falsely decide for those
Who is your friend?

The tailed path
It will become the edge of the soul.
If you know the essence -
Do not say - breathe.

Feel free to take yours
Leaving for more.
You will lose everything
To find yourself.