sleepless
Философские разговоры русских поэтов снова стали темой ночи. Надеюсь, Дина и Паша простят меня, но никак мне было не уснуть, не смотря на то, что Пит Доэрти пел мне на ухо нежные свои песни
I'm the rain
My friend the wind
To breath he is twinned
Blow high or low high
Tornadoes to spin
My mother the cloud
In widow's black shroud
Gives birth to the earth
Before fields can be plowed
Up in the sky, we've demand to supply
I am necessity, base of the recipe
I'm the rain
My cousin the snow
Lays blankets below
States that her flakes are
The threads to the soul
I'm the rain
My friend the wind
To breath he is twinned
Blow high or low high
Tornadoes to spin
My mother the cloud
In widow's black shroud
Gives birth to the earth
Before fields can be plowed
Up in the sky, we've demand to supply
I am necessity, base of the recipe
I'm the rain
My cousin the snow
Lays blankets below
States that her flakes are
The threads to the soul