Текст песни Саркома - Паталогия лета

I wanted to find my hands so that it was warm, but time was gone
In last year's bones of my kindness, only wine remained
Calming my hands in my pockets, I count the ribs of the bridge,
In the red sky, my day is dying, a tear is dripping drop by drop.

Anatomy of light, pathology of summer

Choking the voice of the wind with a scarf, I'm not afraid of the cold
Waking a lonely porch, knocking snow off my boots,
My faith is not worth a penny, and I like cigarette smoke,
My sun has gone forever, there is no Sunday in this city.