Текст песни Джек Абатуров - Исповедь

I did not write a letter,
but Confession.

Eye rub.
Leaving the apartment.
The stairs guarded.
I wanted to tell you,
that he did not already know.
I wanted to tell you,
as he no longer lived.

I did not write a letter,
but Confession.

God saw -
how to mend holes without success
and cut the tourniquet.
I watched off with a glazed look
tram in the depot.
From the pack fell on the table at night
sesame.
How to sit in the cold kitchen.
I read poetry.
I got used to the emptiness of the July heat
to be ill.
And I caught the pre-working sail
on the lens.
I loved this world.
I longed to look at him.

And he did not write a letter,
but Confession.

Believed that,
that Love has turned into beads from turquoise.
But the heavenly chisel crumbled.
And hopes for happiness burst,
as a bubble.
I stood and looked at the stars.
I ate a plombiere.
I watched the neighbor's dog in the bushes
growls.
I calculated who the Euro title
bombardier.
I remembered the sweet taste
jam from cherry plum.

I did not write a letter,
but Confession.

Five weeks.
And, like a pendulum, I melt
from wall to wall.
My thoughts covered with a thick coating
flowers.
I - as a valuable leaf - lost
and lost in the price.

I could not say prayers
and did not know the hymnal.
The taste of hope in the mouth was similar
almonds.

I cherished within myself the infinite
shame.
I love you.

I love you.
I like.