We often fail. |
Passion, hello.
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Happiness changes colors once a day.
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With you - in danger, without you - in the shade.
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This beautiful song belongs here -
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Between my heart and yours
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Between Barrikadnaya and Presnya, together... Together...
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Is this not happiness? |
But...
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The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
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With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
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The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
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With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
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So unfailing to passion, I'm sorry.
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Cold rain came from somewhere.
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Go under the umbrella and take your hand
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Let's be back at least before eight.
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My city is silent, and the notes on the verse.
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And this hour of slumber overtook.
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Hello... Hello..
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Is this not happiness? |
But...
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The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
|
The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
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I'm sorry ... It feels like one.
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We are both imperceptibly sad.
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This is your genre. |
This is your style
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Your weapon against my powers.
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My city is silent, and the notes on the verse.
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And this hour of slumber overtook.
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Hello... Hello...
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Is this not happiness? |
But...
|
The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
|
The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
|
The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
|
The soul flew over the puddles, but it was not April that he caught a cold.
|
With your lethal weapon, I apparently killed myself.
|
Apparently, I killed myself.
|
Apparently I killed myself.
|
Apparently I killed myself. |