A car is turning, your clothes on the chair
You`re looking at the street, and I think
you`ll catch a cold if you`re standing on the balcony
You throw something for the pigeons, so their hearts
would beat for something,
so they`d have a purpose, and we wouldn`t always think
that all of them are just tools
to cover this city with shit
And it would make everything ok
that it rains, and it makes
the town look in the morning
like a freshly grown cabbage
And you`d be new in it too,
green, like a movement, and suddenly,
jump in the front of cars
C`mon, out with those tears, out!
Feel that perhaps now you exist,
and not only a mistake could bring changes
Your skin must be enough
for a jacket for your girl
if she is cold, `coz the winter is coming, and really,
maybe it`s true, that you allow things to live
Things, you usually murder
May it wear you down whatever you used to wear...before
May it stop in you...