Текст песни прожиточный минимум - пульс

pulse

all that remains for me is the ashes of your cigarettes
all that remains for us is the wind caressing our hair
voice breaks, slowly fades away
my whole life is just inflation and unemployment
just hold my hand as we walk in the dark
like the blind - groping - and the heart pounds
so that no neighbors drunk behind the thick walls,
no siren calls bother us anymore

if my voice is low
in the thunder of city
if longing and sadness - so be it
fight in my hands
beat at my temples
beat like a pulse
when i wake up

but we will never wake up and are unlikely to sleep
drunken sun bursts into the house
a broken match, a crumpled draft
whatever we can say, we'll say later
just hold my hand while the moth into the light
back and forth again, forever, now
thin lines of veins, your transparent trace
the happiness that is in us