Текст песни Осень Моей Жизни - Зёрна

Do not try,
kill the man who lay on the ground
let
breathing roots.
He became a part of
what is more
bypassing all from the outside .
He was frustrated -
It turned into a grain.

Wheatgrass his hard camp
dragged through the soil to the sun ,
palms
squeezing weeds
and will cry
it was like a whip ,
giving forces
when he lost
them .