Текст песни РисБо - Штрихи

I want to touch them
Well, no way?
Sacred like a halo
Artist's lips strokes.

The filter room is more beautiful there
Petersburg bridges.
I begged those lips
To be more refined than the east.

Wild delight and a ton of torment -
Majestic like Elbrus
I praise your cupid bow,
Like the souls of Marcel Proust.

I lift it up with words
The lips of the commissure are neat.
On them with love the memory of milestones,
And my lips, their dryness, are warlike to the enemy.

A little dash between - a parade to Olympus,
And in my soul it's time to go to bars.
It's time for my lips to go to yours -
It's time to pair.