Текст песни Михаил Струков - Календарь

I flipped through the color-coded calendar,
I tear off the last solar sheet,
And rainy September hurries home.
And this old forgotten tune
On the wings of flocks of birds flying away
I was somewhere again calls himself.

And autumn cast on rough asphalt
His yellowed outfit
Stubborn wind umchitsya distance, ringing,
And the rain pours me
Five hundred kilometers in a row,
And I'm going there, where waiting for me.

I will make this strange route
Where there is rarely knock train
And somewhere in a hurry to change the sunrises sunset,
Where the clock is not a matter of minutes,
Where wooden sleeping city,
And caravans tired birds fly.

And autumn cast on rough asphalt
His yellowed outfit
Stubborn wind umchitsya distance, ringing,
And the rain pours me
Five hundred kilometers in a row,
And I'm going there, where waiting for me.