| The taste of honey on the lips,
|
| The weight of apple branches
|
| Bitter sugary tobacco
|
| The smoke of the last cigarette.
|
| The rustle of pale blue curtains,
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| Soft car noise
|
| And a ruby beak
|
| On a table covered in dust.
|
| On this unearthly evening
|
| We spend life with you.
|
| For a day exhausted anger
|
| Sleeping on a pink pillow
|
| And foot on foot
|
| There was indifference.
|
| Longing fingers knock
|
| On a dull piano cover.
|
| Vein blue temple
|
| It beats, but you can't hear it.
|
| This room is empty
|
| We spend life with you.
|
| Unimaginable sur
|
| Nature wants to draw.
|
| Dark velvet suit
|
| So to face tonight.
|
| Just do not stretch the canvas,
|
| Damp subframe in the corner.
|
| The wind blew, the floor creaked
|
| And with a yawn, the shutters closed.
|
| This room is empty
|
| We spend life with you.
|
| Having finished playing the nocturne from the sheet,
|
| Bright light removes the ramp.
|
| Siamese cat eye
|
| He winked at the table lamp.
|
| Easy key turn
|
| In silence with a roll of thunder.
|
| Small and smells unfamiliar
|
| The cloak is not from my shoulder.
|
| And someone else's pain in the house
|
| We spend life with you.
|
| We spend our lives with you
|
| It's unbearable to be a slave
|
| The moon is cracked, chipped and pockmarked.
|
| In the morning the stars will burn out
|
| But there is still time to catch up
|
| This strange train leaving me.
|
| Lie down on a sleeping needle
|
| Black Whitney sticky voice
|
| Black suede heel
|
| A splinter stood on the mirror.
|
| Reversed shutter -
|
| The answering machine suddenly clicked.
|
| It is strange to hear: "Good evening!"
|
| At five in the morning from no one.
|
| This room is empty
|
| Where you and I said goodbye to life. |