wet asphalt, headlights are shinig into eyes
there's no "you may" and "you may not" here
we all are daughters of cities, of our little worlds
glamourous light is blinding
i am the third from the right, and there is no sixth one anymore
and one unhappy story for everyone, we are move-ins
in the capital windows are wide open, girls-sleepwalkers
tears-vodka, it will smash you into wrappers
(walking) barefoot on milky way glass
in the capital windows are wide open, girls-sleepwalkers
childhood is dead, (we are) unbraiding bowknots
i am willing to everything except love
eyes-strasses, it's easier to close them,
to do everything right way, smoke and forget
for their paper "thank you", all is done and I don't care
to call home to tell mom
that everything is ok, you can only dream about it
one story for all, one territory, the battlefield is me