воскресенье, 06 октября 2013
всё-таки люблю я егоYou can tell by the wind
By fresh cut wood
All stacked to dry
That autumn's here
It makes you sad
About the crummy
Summer we had
With pine trees creaking
The ravens screeching
Just like the story my grandma tells
About when a bird
Hits your window
And someone you know
Is about to die
Autumn's here, autumn's here
It's ok if you want to cry
'cause autumn's here, autumn's here, autumn's here
So find a sweater
And you'll be better
Until the kindling is tinder dry
We can be quiet
As we walk down
To see the graveyard
Where they are now
I wonder how
They brought their piano
To Holden Hill
From old Berlin
'd be hard to keep it
It well in tune
With winters like the one
That's coming soon
'cause autumn's here, autumn's here
It's time to cry now
That autumn's here
Autumn's here, autumn's here
It's ok if you want to cry
Because autumn's here
I think that ghosts like
The cooler weather
When leaves turn color
They get together
And walk along these
These old back roads
Where no one lives and
And no one goes
With all their hopes set
On the railway
That never came and
that no one stayed
I guess that autumn
Gets you remembering
And the smallest things
Just make you cry
Autumn's here
Autumn's here
Autumn's here
Autumn's here
Autumn's here
It's time to cry
'cause autumn's here
Autumn's here, autumn's here
It's ok now
Autumn's here...Смотрим на мокрый асфальт за окном и проникаемся глумом. Чудесно, что
Chuckie вытащил меня гулять вчера, потому что в Питере началась открыточная осень, и мы успели поймать тот магический момент, когда всё уже пиздец как красиво, но ещё не мокро. А сегодня уже Питер, детка, и всё такое. Хотя всё просто волшебное вокруг всё равно...