Nervously in the braids her hair braided, believed in prophetic dreams
Often there was little inspiration, so the smell of spring was waiting
Morning from a package of exhausted clothes
Fresh wind will slip through the balcony
Lost everything and only in pauses somewhere between
A phone will scream in a quiet room
On the sidewalks, the city is kicking dust
Grts on the windows of the first floors
She is open, but no one reads her
And who read, has long forgotten about her
She, she is tired, forgotten
She, she - to whom no one, someone former
She, she is tired, forgotten
She, she - to whom no one, someone former
Years go, years do not wait
Turns time into a second -rate product
Yes, mom is dripping daily
Grandchildren demands while holding her stool
Red threads through life is not enough
What passed; It was good, but it is not enough
I would have known then that it will flow out the window
Happiness is that I didn't notice
There was one man, all the flowers gave all the flowers
Everything went around, swore in love
It turned out that he had shut all her friends
Borrowed money and fucked up
She, she is tired, forgotten
She, she - to whom no one, someone former
She, she is tired, forgotten
She, she - to whom no one