The globe that was spinned by finger
will be stopped by finger as well.
Geographical dream makes names of the streets
almost thousand-letter.
The future is not foreseeable.
The past isn`t assured
because there is already known
a new memory without insult.
What will be saved? Some kinds of
a moral, temperance of
tears, light on a lip of an asphalt. But
no hope. This is a worthy world.
Yellow boards, the crack of horizon
Don`t panic. Don`t hesitate.
The sun already stays above a short roof.
Voda-i-Ryba еще тексты
Оценка текста
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 2