Текст песни пульсаnet - за.тебя.

Please hold away from scissors,
They may randomly serve veins with silk threads,
Leave your own problems to the stock -
Do not make sadness of the doll.

Freedom will wave again on a farewell by hand, replacing the scenery, scattering by the dome of the skylands of Star Foil.
And it seems as if you can so much
but in fact choking on the run
From yourself or on unimunited guests.
Troubles are thin bones, that as snow under the sole of crunch;
I grab my lips per air,
And I want -
for you.

Does it make sense to move on if it expects an end
or if where we are not,
It will always be better.
Creator again closed on the restoration of his shabby dilapidated paradise,
And closer to the kernel everything works on schedule, without holidays and lunch break.
In my kindergarten, the cemetery of dead flowers, my little reaper sowed them,
And always in mid-April collects his crop,
as soon as cold come;
Although inside the Celsius scale has long fallen on zero.
If everyone has fallen in life,
I would like to become burnt autumn foliage,
beveled spicy grass
and fallen tired star,
which is coming to the desire
Yes, what has never described in the most bold verses and in the most desperate prose.
I have long broke the spikes of my rose,
And now on the planet of a small prince flowing bloody dawn.

I grab my lips per air,
And so I want

per. you.