Текст песни Грусняффка - Пропуская сквозь пальцы свет

Crying glass of cold minibuses
Frozen and held in the city
Without stories a few days
Well, in principle, as always

Crying lonely winter asphalt
Under a stream of passers-by
In the gray crowd favorite for viola
I'm looking for people just like you

Pack of thoughts dreams about you
On our second meeting with you
From my vale of sorrows in sleep
You come, and I was speechless

And flowing through my fingers light
Which I ditch soul strings
From the distant world you greetings
And you write your response to me

In the meantime, in the cold bus
Looks like all the windows cry
Pulling verses from his jacket pocket
Which for you means nothing