Текст песни Черный Капюшон - Крик духов поэтов столетий возможных

About us write stories, we are lost echoes of echoes
We like fish hung in the balance on the other side of happiness
We have seized a seagull with their mouths open
but do not be sad
sailed without discipline ..
without the right to thaw, and even more reason to breathe a little
I slowly shift to a new clean tvert
I repeat the windows that have not yet time to umiret and even try to feed
Once you realize that all alone
your bird flew away for a long time
napridumyval you make friends and enemies
drove himself into the steppe and could not already get out of the shackles of self-knowledge
You're nobody on an infinite sheet of paper, you just point in a dark corner where no
Can not believe and condemn me, but my faith, I like the long lost you
You came up with his devils and gods, but in fact the whole world is only a box of matches, but the canister of gasoline in your hands.
It is the cry of spirits, the spirits cry centuries poets possible ...