Текст песни Солдат Семёнов - Хроника

Bright red flower from a bottle
windowsill again february
and all night long the sweet smell of cloves
backhand broken like a garden
black light outside the window Drink until it breaks
until it breaks bloom Clear cold swallow
freezing Like snow crumbling
sparkling

An unnamed continent shimmering in ancient fog
skewed edge reproaching the guest in a piece
hey motherland prone
drum invisible knocking in the breast pocket
Young earth in the dungeon digs itself barefoot

White eyebrows at these bushy edges Gray eyes
Powdered white space to the very edges of the night of night
Nine hundred and ninety shades of one whiteness Cap slivers
Wood echo leashed by the steep All within error
Across the world, empty paths to nowhere
No reproach
Good you have fun yeah
well lonely

Loneliness
on the edge of a fragile world
You and I hear the oppressive rumble of emptiness
And stumbling over the steps
swallow the darkness of the night
Space rocks us
shakes space
space
And infinity shoots point blank
of the most irrevocable
his weapon
Never

Hand-to-hand arable land
collared air
entrenched seeds
subterranean team edge
conventional sign
orders
Node lattice of the earth
looking around getting stronger
shivers

It's cold spring is coming
old snow Head in a linen bag
exhale inhale as always
Bells on the thawed patches of the Window
awakened air of the Heck
march on the march spring on demolition
dry eyelashes
trees snowdrifts courtyards
trail of the coming Either
empty earth dish
from under the sky