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Month

This month will be a long one
All around us only the evil, nasty wolves
And you are just a scared sheep to them
Running with fear
 
River flows away
And soul flickers like candle in the wind
It is all so painful, absurd
You are silent with fear
 
Just want to howl
Nothing to look for
As if show falls and fals
 
Heart like a pistachio
And cable buckle will tie our hands
Not everyone can see how scary it is here
Looking into the void
 
The little bull is walking, crying and shaking,
Patience is getting thin, he sees,
I will soon fall down
 
How long should we hold on like that?
I want to love, not to be afraid
I want to forget everything at once
To paint it over from the inside
 
But heart won't forgive this quiet betrayal
And highways are pulsating in temples
I know, yes, it is spoiled
Too much love
 
Let's hit the brakes
Tramway is coming back to depot
And country is full of tears
And you are my window in it
 

There is no us (You are not the eternity for me)

(You are not the eternity for me,
I am not the abyss for you.
Instead of a sweetness - an honesty...)
A remedy, a game, lust.
 
I am not the sun for you,
You are not the sky for me.
Not tasting the bitterness,
Seagulls were chocking on the pieces of bread.
 
I don’t know - where you are,
I don’t know - with whom.
I have no idea where to go.
Should we trust our eyes,
Then it will be raining the day after tomorrow.
What (Such) a pity,
(But...) you see,
Yet again, there is no us.
 
I am not a sea for you,
And I don’t storm with passion.
Quality of the relationship,
You wish to dilute the paint...
You are not a wind for me,
And you don’t drive the waves,
I am responsible for you,
After all, we are so childish.
 
I don’t know - where you are,
I don’t know - with whom.
(I..) have no idea where to go.
Should we trust our eyes,
Then it will be raining the day after tomorrow.
What a pity,
But you see,
Yet again, there is no us.
 
You only need me for the autumn,
I only have you for a short time.
(I only need you for the autumn,
You only have me for a short time).
We are not asking for more,
What’s the point, anyway.
 

Jule

Versions: #1
Thin women hand-rods
in silk dresses will dress,
scattered by random sadness
and will roll out to the limit.
Thunderous prejudices,
unpleasant circumstances,
and, burning all regrets,
try to be inattentive.
 
July.
The month burns the shoulders, the
wind will lift the tulle.
Time does not heal,
a soft kiss.
It will get a little easier.
The heart doesn't look for bullets.
Meeting places change.
 
The ribs are intact, the rhymes are broken.
People with more indifferent.
Let's assume that happiness is young.
Tanned - naughty.
 
By a thin line of fine lace
the dusty sky is encircled.
What remains in this time,
what is hidden in this name?
 
July.
The month burns the shoulders, the
wind will lift the tulle.
Time does not heal,
a soft kiss.
It will get a little easier.
The heart doesn't look for bullets.
Meeting places change.
 
July.
The month burns the shoulders, the
wind will lift the tulle.
Time does not heal,
a soft kiss.
It will get a little easier.
The heart doesn't look for bullets.
Meeting places change.