Текст песни Александр Розенбаум - И каналы тянут руки серые ко мне...

As the snow flying from the sky,
Deep white snow,
In that lies my sadness,
To you, panting from running,
In his grief in a hurry.

In the morning the earth falls asleep
And snow falls asleep himself,
That was someone warm.
Only I, fleeing from melancholy,
I pray that I skidded.

And the channels pull hand gray to me.
And in their hands is not white snow melts.

Play me, gentle violin.
Dawns. Written postscript
And filled with wax bleed.
It is time, burst shot, and cried,
I'm in the snow fall on his shoulder.

If you want, do not listen to this song.
Slam the door - it does not become easier.
Just do not chafe my soul.
Just do not disturb my wounds.

Again the stars fall from the sky,
Again, I do not have time to think of.
I live like it is not too late ...
Only just not be able.

And the channels pull hand gray to me.
And in their hands is not white snow melts.