Текст песни Я есть - Как быть могло бы

I do not know who remembers my miracles
Map this autumn rains washed out
It continues to successfully go to the ram
I do not remember who knows
I do not know who remembers
I disappeared in September divided by years
through the puddles in the new shoes stepping closer to the school
all came together in just one night where the music was heard
but the words do not make out, and only the sky is still shining stars
almost summer light
almost childlike morning
dew in the grass on bare feet Gathering
after dawn !!!
when it was morning, and the morning of life, it was
I realized too late
it lost
quiet heat that warmed me under the blanket
I wanted to get back
So I wanted to get back
so as not to cool down
memorized
All the outlines of my dreams
 and the clock ticked not safely
in fact we knew
that it I did not believe we were not each other
and it was not known
I closed my eyes to see
a minute hand moved
and between
Only the rustling of leaves
even touch window
my old cottonwood
you cut down
now not been so
but all froze in me !!!
has ever
I was there remember
to each of fine dust on the carpet
my job
It was to carry food from the kitchen
we ate in the room
and smelled delicious
and there were people
but I remember it harder
I let go
let everything as it is and do not try to have something
so be it I left
who do not understand that and do not understand anything
and from the beginning
all the way should be passed to
Stepping through the days
I thought a lot
and fell asleep
I wandered through the worlds
and I did not consider it a miracle
that everything he created
it was everything as it should be
everything is for real
to answer for everything
Children were the ones that have forgotten how to dream and suddenly just believe
naive and kindly light
I stumble
I fly somewhere
if ever I do get lost
catch at the wall so that the year
stripping fingers
knocking nails
trying to come up to where the sun was
but only the wind whistling in my ear
and I am afraid all this is just a quiet horror
that all true
all fun and at the fork of the roads each
meets autumn
and tomorrow
the same rain and the same tears
and I never know what might be