Текст песни Лисичкин Хлеб - Монтажёр

Days cuts the editor
He makes the plot,
On the old film still
Flashes the old trail.

Everything is intended, day by day,
At night again night,
Dawn over the thousandth window,
And the house, like a house, exactly in-point.

Face through the old face
In all eyes it looks,
Bouquets of different voices,
Winds string rings.

Wreaths of the patterns of woven
Scenes sky, like salute,
As an inverted bottom
Affordable minutes.

I'm passing through my own
From sparking
Suddenly fading run hours
And rules of the game.

Here is the black factory beep,
Branch of day rays,
It's time to go forward
At the peak of new days.

Portraying wave crests
Tonging a wolf
I'll be just a black ox
Under a white cloud.

Unbearable becoming himself
On the skin chill,
And you need all your clock
Another day.