Текст песни Lin - Бессонница

Weekdays are a bit other thoughts of insanity,
Perhaps times have changed, but the time of insanity,
Not be under the soul is no longer the songs
Notebooks have become empty words fly into the wind.

Rain never ceased for weeks, and then a lot of reason,
Thoughts walked on the sheets at night
Chill for glazing all the music of the absurd,
In the kitchen, cigarette smoke, broken crockery

On the walls of new scars in the memory of someone's face
Shabby street hood again this Insomnia
Noise inside the void, and that it has stopped
Everything in reality how you want it to only dreamed of.

Year-blank shooting like a target in a shooting gallery
Dreams shattered, and asphalt somewhere in the small world
Remember to keep Brother as fate would not peck
Poems flowed nowhere when running out of ink.

Empty page will not be drab suburbs
instead of one of the capital.
Which would not lead the way, but the world will not be another
Shouted again struggled: & quot; Childhood do not go! & Quot;

I remember in 2005, three in the stairwell
Ideas moved mind, memories portraits
Not enough time has passed, we still like children
Time will not turn back, let him wind blows.

Again crushes these sheets to Cart
Was a little cold, summer again reminded of the winter,
And there is still autumn everyday picture
Thoughts ate cold in the windows of an empty apartment.

Stuck to the monitor and vital music for days
A pack of cigarettes, all the same shabby jacket
In the eyes are not the same lights have other concerns
Time does not bring back not rewind time ...