Текст песни пульсаnet - за.тебя.

please stay away from the scissors,
they can accidentally rip open the veins of silk threads,
keep your own problems in reserve -
don't make the puppeteer sad.

freedom will wave goodbye again, changing the scenery, scattering star foil on the dome of the sky.
and it seems like you can do so much
but you actually choke on the run
from himself or to uninvited guests.
thin bones are broken, crunching like snow under the sole;
I grip the air with my lips
but you want -
for you.

does it make sense to move on if there is an end
or if where we are not,
will always be better.
the creator again closed his shabby dilapidated paradise for restoration,
and closer to the core everything works according to the schedule, without holidays and lunch breaks.
in my garden there is a cemetery of dead flowers, sown by my little reaper,
and always in the middle of April reaps its crops,
as soon as the cold weather subsides;
although inside the Celsius scale has long since dropped to zero.
if everyone has a role in life,
I would like to be burnt autumn foliage,
mown spicy grass
and a fallen tired star
for which you make a wish,
yes, what he never described in the most daring verses and in the most desperate prose.
I broke off the thorns of my rose long ago,
and now a bloody dawn is rolling on the little prince's planet.

I grip the air with my lips
and so you want

per. you.