Текст песни Музыка Тирсена, мои стихи и голос - маме

Climbing in the window Autumn,
Opening a gust of wind
the door to where I was eight
And my growth was no more than a meter;

Door there, where my sizes
and your knees your friend
corresponded. I do not believe,
what's in your small hand

will not fit more compressed
My fist. That I am in the evening
I fall asleep, not to blame
Your fairy tales, palms, shoulders.

I do not believe that it became
the fact that it will not happen again
that those days are inevitable little
And our faces change.

I do not believe that time can
To carry these days from here,
You remember all this too!
Explain to me what a miracle

forced you to wake up
To fix in my bed
Blankets that forever blow
And erased in the week

Once fifteen. Well, why
everyone is confident that this
stopped already needed
because just that this summer

nineteenth on account
And with you one we grow? ...
Nonsense! Without care
Here I will disappear just!

Without heat that in the eyes I see
You, without your palms!
And no one will be closer to me.
You, please, remember -

that while behind my back
You will stay at the same;
what a child in me - with you
And you calls mom.

10.25.09