I turn off the TV, I am writing you a letter,
About how I cannot look at shit anymore,
About how there is no strength left,
About how I almost got drunk, but didn't forget you.
About how the phone rang, wanted me to get up,
Dress up and go, or more exactly, run,
But I told him to get lost,
Told him that I'm sick and am tired, and haven't slept this night.
I'm waiting for an answer, there are no more hopes left.
Soon summer will end.
That...
And we got lucky with the weather - it is raining for the fourth day,
Although they said on the radio - even the shade will be hot.
But, however, in the shade, where I am,
For now it is dry and warm, but I am scared for now...
And days go, one after another - one day we eat, and for three we drink,
And overall live happily, even though rain's outside.
The tape recorder broke,
I sit in silence, and am pretty happy about it.
I'm waiting for an answer, there are no more hopes left.
Soon summer will end.
That...
Outside a construction is in progress - a crane is working,
And the restaurant behind the corner is closed for the fifth year now.
And on the table there is a jar,
And in the jar is a tulip, and on the window - a glass.
And like so, year by year will go, like so the life will pass,
And for the hundredth time, butter side down, a sandwich will fall.
But maybe there will be at least a day,
But maybe there will be at least an hour, when we'll get lucky.
I'm waiting for an answer, there are no more hopes left.
Soon summer will end.
That...