In a hangover morning with a sleepless shadow
|
Fell into the silhouettes of cardboard houses.
|
Another day without resentment and unrest.
|
Another night without hope and without dreams.
|
Proudly putting wings to the snow -
|
Everything is close here, reach out with your hand -
|
We habitually take off into the sky,
|
But for some reason we are falling down.
|
Here - no one will wait for us,
|
In the endless void
|
All that's left is to fly
|
Where the wind blows.
|
The world is a world invented for us,
|
Shattered into pieces -
|
How many of them are there.
|
In glasses passion and fragments of deceit.
|
We drink without getting drunk, but that's the trick.
|
In small windows of dim screens
|
We see the eyes, but we do not feel the hands.
|
Empty phrases against the will.
|
The stock is empty, and here we are again
|
Watching a movie with yourself in the lead role -
|
Where reason wins over love.
|
Where - no one will wait for us,
|
In the endless void
|
All that's left is to fly
|
Where the wind blows.
|
The world is a world invented for us,
|
Shattered into pieces -
|
How many of them are there.
|
Here every oath kills faith.
|
Someone else's pain is an endless trifle.
|
Any feelings get in the way. |
And every wise man is a fool for someone.
|
Finale, epilogue - well, the jester would be with them.
|
The former hero will be scrapped.
|
And a new name will appear in life,
|
And everything before him will turn to dust.
|
And no one will wait for us
|
In the endless void
|
All that's left is to fly
|
Where the wind blows.
|
The world is a world invented for us,
|
Shattered into pieces -
|
How many of them are there. |