Текст песни Лилия Савицкая - Русла рек на ладонях

The river rivers on the palms will be filled with the sacrament of old age.
And you won’t wash it with water, you will not take fatigue. That is,
A viscous step forward, releasing his legs from gold,
Past blue empty sunbeds, locker rooms and umbrellas.

It was new to watch: this woman is pricking rings,
Her song is torn, as if a restless cavalry into battle.
It was fashionable to stagger balance with their own wars.
A lot swallowed, cooled down. But in general we are free.

Do not take it, they said - you will burn. But someone else's does not burn me.
And she sprouted with cruel, yellow flowers.
The language of the insolent love cliches clicks.
Juice on the fingers and dust. Black with a click is not washed off.

We live very dryly. If touched, break through. Strong
Our mothers in the gaze of heaven sat down with blue.
In approximation, the skin is the sleeping of the ravines and the beem.
Photos are sleeping in the long box of the room. Forbid them,

I will gut a year and lay out again with cards -
Festival, gray, evil, station, brown.
Do you hide your eyes in the hair of willow brown? Fullness,
Our beaches are deserted. But still, the river beds are filled.