I dreamed of the birds without the sky
I dreamed of the horses without the ground
I dreamed of the birds without the sky
I dreamed of the horses without the ground
There is no other season here, but winter
There's room for the labyrinth and the stone on the head
The foreign wall borders on the foreign wall
On the stalk of the yard, wilts the linen flower of the sky
And there, they are sowing the corn
Torpid hay is brought to the hallways wide open
There, the summer walks by with the golden sceptre
The rains from far away, from the kingdom
The last apple gleams for me on the apple tree
There's room for the labyrinth and the stone on the head
And no one would scream when I fall in the motorised noise
Like the ice leftovers before spring are cleaned up,
They will pick up the stranger,
All the directions will come together
And all the seasons will be here simultaneously!
All the moments will hit the heart at once
And will argue, which one do I belong to
May this be the confession, but without the absolution
I don't want to be robbed of my life!
All the moments will hit the heart at once
And will argue, which one do I belong to
May this be the confession, but without the absolution
I DON'T WANT TO BE ROBBED OF MY LIFE!