Singer: Laura Moscow

The one who now spends his age -
Parties, wine river,
Eternal holiday, madness, laughter,
And very pleased with himself.
It will not stand the hustle and bustle,
Evaporate the water in the well,
Oh, how brightly burn the fires,
That burn with the sunrise!

White Swan, black Baron, do not fly you do not dream.
Whether the wings are clipped, and not a bird

Are you running from destiny, you're running away from me
Your hands are empty, every day or maybe night.
You're afraid to admit that life is infinitely simple.

You win. You made your point!
The right to judge left in your heart.
Sparks flew around.
And broken words.
Pride is a disease.
Pride is affliction.
Pride is a disease,
But this idea is not new!

Maybe you'll regret but you chose yourself
His joy, pain and sadness.
You might want to ask to look back,
But you have chosen yourself.

You asked to be there - this is my hand,
But know this: no chains.

We speak without thinking about the main,
The word "love" many do not need
The word "goodbye" is the desire
To breathe deeply, easily and safely.

Because the feelings go hand in hand with the word
And beat butt to the chest is absolutely not necessary.
And what you say in a natural tone,
Will be more important than global phrase.

Are you so confused in life
Don't see my road
And feel out of place,
A speck of dust in the palm of God.
Don't know what you want
Afraid to admit,
I lost the ability
Love and warm laugh.
Do not believe in a simple miracle
Can't see open Windows
And monotonous life
You like chains shackled.

The world painted in tones:
Papery and just grey.
By inertia, eating and drinking,
By inertia even breathing,
Inertia just living
Looking at the sky and sees mediocrity.

Life is a game.
The life habit.
This life is a war,
Life - someone's face.

Marionetka or just God's beach...
Don't know how to hate and love.
You're a hunter - Gara people and rats!
So immortal or cursed - figure!

And in my heart Yes, lace silk,
And silks... this is the highlight?.. No laceration!
All my life I sought, fled to the call of...
And it is only a echo in a haze of fog.

Old town tactless sleeping.
Anybody to you is not the case.
Your throat burns a long time,
Aching bones, sore body.
But there will be no tomorrow.
Tomorrow you will be young again.
And sad will be lazy,
Life quietly passes by.