Click on the play, And the whole world as if with me. Gets a rhythm, And calls for him. Trams float smoothly, On slippery rails. Outside the window, it rains areas and not songs. Past houses, And yellowed maples. Past the ninth, And straight to Zadonny. Monotone, In the depths of the area, Among the new autumn, From the windows of dusty rooms, I see smoke from the chimneys, And the paths of the trams. I see This city, What is behind him pulls. I see those people who stayed here. And this city is forever yours all. Against the background, seven high-rises, Nine stations, Leaves are falling, And circling in pairs. Old yards, Against the backdrop of parks and buildings. City melancholy burned Under a bright flame. In the rain, That washes avenues. This pain ... Under the hood and cap. under the tracks that play in my player. It's not so bad, While playing stereo. Click on the play, And the whole world, If with me. I swim quietly, In the tram around the area. Closer to home, Through the window in the background, I see that, As for the pain, I am so familiar. The tram circle, What I see from the windows. When autumn comes, We give birth to strings. Looking from the top down, From home 38, I remember too early, Autumn came. Mood autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ... The mood is autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ... And I still weave these rhymes into plots I see it in the countries, which of my verses The new summer glues like the time Children of the concrete walls, the inhabitants of the system When the leaves fall we are writing more and more often The calendar is changing its numbers more and more Changing weekdays, courtyard life at the studio Lyrics are appreciated by faithful people Appreciate time in the midst of this autumn In my demos they are looking for all the answers to the questions Again on the play and everything is new again years And we plots from old notebooks On the streets, also in Finding that that the rain I pribavlyuya volume and my familiar motif in my columns mood of autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ... The mood is autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ... For years, we wore the chain of life with our teeth, tore the flesh of destiny with our teeth, we like dogs of war Inhaled nicotine, brother, don’t drive us anymore, so we are not alone We are not arrogant, we have not changed our life goals. Though look, now we are on TV. We have not sold, although we are already tired. But that means it must be so, this is part of the dream. And I love my city, my district. I hate this noise when going home. Alley, remember maple? Even with summer outside the window, with my soul I will be in it In every word, in every line In every drop of rain on golden foliage I will dissolve in autumn clouds and fall from the heavens to melt on her lips This is my time and I write about it It gives me hope, and I breathe to her City of dreams, love, traffic jams, arches, roads and golden foliage Mood autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ... The mood is autumn, I close my eyes and turn up the volume. And if someone asks me, I will answer: I am alive, the mood is autumn ...