Forgive me, dear friend, a year -old silence
To write a trip-hop message I was underway
In "Sapsan" brought from the homeland of a humble
To the great city of Peter, from morning to morning
All the time I circled idle in trouble,
Vai, having fun in bars at feasts
I did not know rest, alas, not for an hour
As if Analoi has a great quarter
Exhausted clerk
Me, I, I, I
I lived, as if my guardian angel is a beginner
He listened to me with me and answered questions from the sky: "What?"
In this city-museum, everything seems to be Sunday
Every day as Sunday
But you catch silence, as if coming soon
Opinion soon
In this city-museum, everything seems to be Sunday
Every day as Sunday
But you look at your watch, as if coming soon
Opinion soon
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
My trip-hop, this is my trip-hop
In this city-museum, everything seems to be Sunday
Every day as Sunday
But you catch silence, as if coming soon
Opinion soon
In this city-museum, everything seems to be Sunday
Every day as Sunday
But you look at your watch, as if coming soon
Opinion soon
