SONGS LYRICS

Original lyrics are in Russian, but some translations have been already made.
If you can translate songs from Russian, you are welcome!

WIND

Where did this autumn day come from?
Appeared suddenly and quietly
She slept and shadows through the door
Blew in like wind and got inside her

Will be waiting for her call
You won't go and you won't leave her
Fewer days spent all alone
Saying sad things, saying briefly

Goodbye for tommorow
Never ever gonna see again
This feeling came over
Leave it out and please forget this friend
Your crying eyes
Your smiling eyes
Looking right into mine and this wind blows apart
From the end to the start

The clocks are slowing down these days
I don't believe them anymore, how
My heart is feeling freezed in chaines
And dreams are thrown somewhere out

Will be waiting for my calls
You won't go and you won't leave me
Spending your time all alone
Saying sad things, saying briefly

Goodbye for tommorow
Never ever gonna see again
This feeling came over
Leave it out and please forget this friend
Your crying eyes
Your smiling eyes
Looking right into mine and this wind blows apart
From the end to the start

FATIGUE

Fatigue. This April's raining from the sky
And throwing shining stars into the black snow
Short dream asleep, whatever, asking why?
It will be clear someday later, not now

This nervous spring is ripping river's ice
Like letters, and it's probably not over.
Still having doubts. You or she? It's nice,
She doesn't look like you at all this moment.

The dog is yelping, brakes are shrieking loud,
Somebody's crying, but it's hard to hear.
These bridges and squares want you to get out,
Please, go back home, meanwhile your roof is here.

Evening is moving down knobs and sounds,
And house in front of you with square windows
Is lighting up. Performing all around
The ending song of day, and like a widow

Artistic night comes is. The time is silence.
F-sharp or maybe G-flat song is over.
The trees have rest after the daily violence
Of crispy wind. They slowly lower shoulders.

And all this city must be looking like
A children's game, some bricks, just set unstrictly.
This brick is you, and those few bricks are mine.
And he, the one, who plays, is is dreaming sweetly.