Текст песни LB - похорони меня.пожалуйста.в своем подъезде.

bury me. please in your entrance.
so that I hear your songs every morning ...
empty words. simple dots.
I stop writing about you. all your lines.
and that’s it. I’ll write in the future, only with me.
I put up with that. which is not mine at all.
I remember all the moments. i never forget them
because you just let me love you.
looking into your bottomless eyes. those. what strangers
did not understand. why aren’t we one with you?
you probably are all funny. Yes, you yourself are funny.
you confirm the same phrase. forgetting ..
but I am pleased to listen to everything. what are you saying.
sorry. I lose my mind.
why are you standing here?
so sorry. that you will leave soon.
so sorry. I won’t see it. can.
maybe it’s only a pity.
what's the window frosts?
though. I'm lying. Really.
on the street +20
I so dreamed of never parting with you.
probably dreamed in vain. stupid romantic and esthetic.
because you are not at all that. for whom I am going to the red light.
that ultraviolet. that oozes from your chest.
go away please. go away. let me forget ..
don't show up anymore. let me refresh my memory.
to start writing not about you and not about August.
so as not to describe the eyes and hands are not mine.
forgot again. my poems about you again.
forgive me. which is different I can’t.
if I love a person, then I love.
and it's not snot. who gathered.
it's up to you. not guessed yet?

you loved to squint so much. I don’t know if I smoked.
you wouldn’t do it. Really.
a drop of nicotine.
and I’m not there.
this august.
Yes, and in April, too
Yes, you yourself know everything. it's all so alike.
and you probably got used to my poems a long time ago.
because they are all about you. and for you. without captions
I would describe you. at least in four volumes.
if you were with me. not at home.
Yes, you're not even at home. you are just with others.
with those. who touching you does not see anything.
with those. who does not cherish even your smile.
and the point is a comma. without hair.

bury me. please in your entrance.
so that I hear your songs every morning.
so that only your legs walk on me.
to wake you up at exactly fifteen.

I know everything is so stupid.
but you like it.
and in the faces of all strangers
only you. beauty.
and I would add you everywhere.
if I could ..
but I don’t decide everything.
I know. that is not God.
Yes, even if I could. but I think. that vryatli
I would not look for you in these rumpled words.
and on napkins in a cafe did not paint lines about you.
if only I didn’t love you. what by the way ..
I will release an album. Really. I answer
where there will be lines about you. and desperate love.
where I will draw the image. your clean. I hope.
although long ago you have exhausted your limit of trust ...

twenty more times I’ll write you in these lines.
so that later it would not be so difficult for us to part.
so that once you read all this about yourself.
and never would have believed in these my "couplets".
send greetings. from the heart. from the heart.
strangle me please. choking.
My soul warms itself with your dream.
you just do not forget. that next to me is not at all.

bury me. please in your entrance.
so that I hear your songs every morning.
so that only occasionally you touched his lips.
so that I completely forget about these our "distances" ... (LB)