Текст песни Элэм - Ищу

I Will Find My Love
I Will Find My Love

Maybe somewhere there exists a queue—
One where you have to stand in line for half a lifetime,
Sign papers in a steady hand,
And pay the fees for all your mistakes.

Or maybe I ought to pray more often—
Or at least simply start praying at all.
Maybe that is how they hand out the prize—
The kind that most people would only dare to dream of.

They say it reveals itself in the cards,
If only you interpret them with enough conviction.
As for me, though, I think it’s all just nonsense—
Just like those horoscopes they’re always singing about.

I mean, come on—for us Scorpios and Aries,
Is it really impossible to like a Libra?
Leos and Geminis—you know, they’re perfectly fine;
And Virgos and Sagittarians have been appealing since our school days.

I think it’s hiding cleverly—
Somewhere nearby, just around the bend.
Half a year wouldn’t be enough—not even a full year—
To walk the length and breadth of half the city.

Asking questions of so many people—
With a query that seems childish, yet is deeply important—
Sharing nothing but my own bitter experiences,
And receiving, in return, the answer: "It is never too late."

Do you believe in love after love? Like a detective, I sift through every trend
In a room strewn with scattered words—
Choosing which ones to remember, which to forget:
Only the true ones remain.

If she gets lost, have no fear;
It simply means you weren't ready yet.
You’ll sense her later—or perhaps sooner—
But you *will* find your love.

I will find my love.
She hides with such confidence, I know;
But I will unravel all her mysteries.
I will find my love.
I’ve heard tales somewhere—though it all seems strange—
Of whether she heals or wounds.

I will find my love.
Through rain, snow, or slush—it makes no difference—
I move forward, as if through a fog.
I will find my love.
I’ve heard tales somewhere—though it all seems strange—
Whether she heals or wounds... I just don't know.

After those cozy, cheerful fits of hysteria,
A chill sets in—and nothing seems to warm you.
And perhaps, even in the summer heat,
Someone will offer you—free of charge—
The threads to mend the hole left in your heart.

Without ever asking for your medical records,
They’ll do it with such pure sincerity—
Right there, in the absence of a pulse—
And suddenly, with a kiss, they’ll bring you back;
Or, to be more precise: they’ll jump-start you once again.

What was that? What *was* that?
Even the most skilled writer could hardly explain it—
When all day long you wear a satisfied grin,
Yet by evening, everything feels tangential once more.

Your belongings are steeped in magic;
For how else could everything be so utterly enchanted? They will force us to do wrong
They will make us feel what is false

We thought that we were good
But in part, it’s all relative
We are like words, cast to the wind
And if there is war, then there are no victors

Silence born of hurt—that much is visible
But what lies beneath the ribs remains unseen
It is hollow there; every criticism is justified
Provided, of course, it isn't about feelings

Doors slam shut like revolvers
I drift somewhere, slightly inebriated
I recall the memory of your knees
And realize: once again, it was all in vain

Like a robot, I switch off my hormones
The algorithm is hardwired into the task
A failure—I must start anew
Stand up, exhale, and keep searching

I will find my love
She hides with such confidence, I know
I will unravel all her mysteries
I will find my love
I heard it somewhere once—though it all seems strange
Whether she heals or whether she wounds

I will find my love
Be it rain, snow, or slush—it makes no difference
I move forward as if through a fog
I will find my love
I heard it somewhere once—though it all seems strange
Whether she heals or whether she wounds—I do not know