The wiring remains the smell of thy old phone wires.
Wet her poem you close, as the wet glass of traffic lights.
Crossroads at night do not live, people are sleeping in the apartments at night.
Wiper blades are not drying out drinking and shouting.
Chorus:
Look it over the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Look at her, she's too bored.
Fly quickly on the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Fly quickly, fly.
High where the sun city, someone high in them is.
The clouds hang out forever, leave particles in the clouds.
Landing easily know if the house you someone is waiting.
Muscles are not spazmiruyutsya ago. Flight, flying, hear the pilots say.
Someone watching two hours of the window. Fingers trembling uncertain, it is far.
Chorus:
Look it over the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Look at her, she's too bored.
Fly quickly on the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Fly quickly, fly.
Look it over the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Look at her, she's too bored.
Fly quickly on the ground, above the ground, above the ground.
Fly quickly, fly.
