| By half past one she was in piano class
|
| Then he measured the city with a step
|
| And she looked at the shop windows along the way
|
| Sorry, your reflection in them
|
| In the hair still, like a wreath
|
| That minor cadence
|
| Little witch
|
| Yes, just then
|
| From the cafe "Kibic"
|
| He came slowly
|
| Like the tide
|
| The secrets are there
|
| So that someone can guess them
|
| There is a word that is worth it
|
| Only when he feels
|
| He gave tea to God
|
| The glow burst everywhere
|
| One plane tree will remain golden
|
| She laughs
|
| He grips his handcuffs tightly
|
| He doesn't tremble
|
| It just introduced the leaves
|
| Blessed St. Michael's Year
|
| One and holy for them
|
| And he wore it out loud
|
| Its almost 18
|
| More and more often they say "you"
|
| You run in the chest of the blow
|
| Beats into bronze wires
|
| A happy glass jar in his pocket
|
| Like a coin and a well
|
| Little witch to make everyone disappear
|
| And she bans like a thief
|
| And she spilled her hair in his face
|
| The secrets are there
|
| So that someone can guess them
|
| There is a word that is worth it
|
| Only when he feels
|
| He gave tea to God
|
| The glow burst everywhere
|
| One plane tree will remain golden
|
| She laughs
|
| He grips his handcuffs tightly
|
| He doesn't tremble
|
| It just introduced the leaves
|
| Blessed St. Michael's Year
|
| One and holy for them
|
| As a mediocre bum…
|
| A little gray and spacious
|
| I stopped alone on the corner
|
| Not so good October
|
| And he thinks everything in the Russian style
|
| And then I realized, on the run
|
| To love you as I used to
|
| Time only ignites the flame
|
| Miholjsko leto in me
|
| That defiant sun before winter…
|
| Come on! |