Grey day-break, grey avenue
Thunder passed by at night.
Wet asphalt,
The city got chilly by sleeping.
In a grey crowd, by herself,
With half-closed eyes,
Again in the metro she’s hurrying up...
An overcrowded platform, a blue carriage
The yellow underground light,
The black tunnel,
The train is flying in the darkness.
In the handbag at the bottom there’s
So much desired folded in two creased ticket.
Tomorrow she’s going to the concert
To him...
The thread of days doesn’t finish yet,
We’re beads on it,
We flounder like fish do in a glass.
Meeting with him is impossible,
Stars never take metro.
Night, silence,
The string will break,
Like a stretched nerve.
She’s alone at home
And again a sleepless night.
He send all of them away, he got so tired
Of these uncoloured whores.
He keeps on mind, that she’s somewhere – in the metro.
The thread of days doesn’t finish yet,
We’re beads on it,
We flounder like fish do in a glass.
Meeting with him is impossible,
Stars never take metro.