Текст песни 7 Раса - Качели

Flew to hell clouds at high speed
I knew that was going to happen in the fall
Eyes and my hair vytsvetut
And your will be black with gray
How painful autumn throat compressed
What a pity , but I have forgotten how to cry
And not being able to express all these words
Fell all over in rainy season

I'm dying on the swing
I hate this sport
How much you loved watching
That our sky someone erased

Computer calculations were incorrect
At stake red-yellow burned last summer
I cough your windows in the room knocked
Yes, I was too superstitious , probably
And people still believe in holidays
For breadcrumbs seeing more
In the epitaph so little controversial

Not a real pity , pity illusory