Текст песни atramentaria - просто ходить
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Смотри, ты как башенный кран, вроде бы выше всех зданий, но периметр движения столько же мал, сколь в багаже хороших воспоминаний. Крутясь и смотря в разные стороны, мы как будто бы скованы, скомканы и отправлены в мусорный бак. Ну а раз так, то терять уже нечего, будем парить в небе кречетом, будем просто ходить. И протоптав сотни миль, мы вернёмся на круги своя, в вечный штиль. Здесь нас ждут, в нашу честь зажигают фитиль, фейерверки, всё мерцает и каждый из нас знает, что всё не за зря, всё на пользу, лишь бы была возможность просто ходить. Лишь бы была возможность просто творить, для себя, понемножку, будь-то поэт, понарошку. А мы и не претендуем, мой силуэт на дорожке, что стала родною для дворника. Мне хватает улыбаться хотя бы раз, хотя бы по вторникам, главное, что без намордника.
Просто ходить с багажом за плечами, провожая пейзажи глазами, просто ходить, думать о чём-то своём, если спросят зачем, то соврём. Как уже кто-то сказал, ты не один, мы вдвоём. Просто ходить, цеплять взглядом дороги в час пик, Просто ходить, лишь бы в памяти навсегда отпечатать тот миг. Пусть и недолгий, но целостный. Just go, it's like just breathe, carrying himself with thoughts in the sky as the shuttle just to walk, this is easy to fly, just below, even in life there is no smooth surfaces, and locking himself in the list of the unnecessary requirements, you yourself in someone's list . And I hear the cries of the abandoned houses do not want to leave his home town this. You seem to be looking at them, you would like something said, but from what has been said just wilted. So does it make sense to talk about? When this pantomime theater? You yourself silent building, with lots of levels, floors and basement, you have a job and the case remains for small, when there is a purpose and a desire to just walk. And in the abandoned construction sites desire to live just as much as it is in you. All short term, the distance from birth to grief. All the passed way, which wants to develop that kick. Traveling with capacious called life. A place where you will grow on a whim, through asphalt, through the frozen puddles. You do not have here in front of someone buck, you say that society has imposed, and I say that society has taken on the dick went. And dick went under their heart-rending cries. Puppets meticulous. Only and can that compare one color to black, praising another, hurl. But the measure of the entire acts only in the winter dawn, bright red and pink fabric. So nice, nice and warm though, soon spring, I stand and face the wind blowing me.
Look, you like a tower crane, it seems to be above all the buildings, but the movement of the perimeter of the same amount is small, however the baggage of good memories. Cool and looking in different directions, as if we would be constrained, crumpled and sent to the trash can. But if so, it has nothing to lose, will soar in the sky gyrfalcon, we just walk. And trodden hundreds of miles, we return to business as usual, into the eternal calm. Here we are waiting in our honor ignite the wick, fireworks, everything shimmers and every one of us knows that it's not for nothing, all in favor, but would be able to just walk. If only there was an opportunity to do just for myself, little by little, whether it be a poet, for fun. And we do not pretend, my silhouette on the track that has become native to the janitor. I have enough to smile at least once, if only on Tuesdays, most importantly, that without a muzzle.
Just walk with luggage behind, watching landscape through the eyes of just walking, thinking about something his own, if they ask why, then sovrёm. As someone has said, you are not alone, we are together. Just walk, hitch a view of the road during rush hour, just walk, if only in memory forever imprinted the moment. Let and short, but holistic.
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