Текст песни Лора Бочарова - Квиддич

Quickly fast heart rides
I catch my luck.
A hundred eyes follow me without looking up.
The golden winged ball looms over the stands.
With every moment closer, closer
I don’t see an opponent.
This round
My whim!

You told me not to risk it until it's time.
What a weird game!
What a weird game!
Above their heads in the middle of the day flying behind a flash of fire
And to know that everything depends on me!

Dodging a serve,
I catch my luck
And she effortlessly flies further and further upward.
I hardly see her
The look goes below, below:
For the arbiter, for the fence where my award sits -
My adviser
My whim!

You said for the player in any game there is no limit.
What an absurd advice!
What a cruel advice!
Your face, inveterate mind
White from the western stands
And the golden light overshadows!

Against the light, not otherwise
I caught my luck
And she flew downhill.
Three rings, four bits:
There were steel brothers even.
Whose eyes are whiter than chalk.
I didn’t know that it’s bold,
Courage is my whim!

One single throw
And the score will be cleared!
You wish me well!
You wish me well!
But mistrust can knock the needle out of the saddle
Because the bet is more than a game!

You talked about death and the sun does not look at point blank range.
But you know, I’m lucky!
You know I'm lucky!
2 minutes before the end I hear a thrill in my face
And I feel the wing at hand.