...I missed...

< Anshe



I was flying to you fresh from the public, empty dress codes,
from the non-configured and tuned microphones,
I ran into the midst of prestigious auctions,
flying over the counter, without a plaintive melancholy reports.
Behind remained a burning life of neon lights,
where there is still a ray of light, recaptured and sold ...
I flew to my city, I rushed to your borders,
I plucked off his balaclava little stuck,
and already painted pictures on the theme of love is ...
And I did not care who and how behind the foul-mouthed,
arrow to the hundred - escaped from a rusty tired of Fame,
from the painted color charts sticker capital ...
I am to you, as if on wings, in my gallery world,
where me your every breath more precious items ...
I scattered pearls catch fingers ... well here it
rolled over the body, he sounded on the collarbone lyre ...
... I miss you so ... the height of our ups ...
above bird above the clouds, the sky and conquer maneuvering ...
You are a skilled guardian, collections of my secrets,
I abandoned my schedule, contracts, concerts, let them! ... and
we will burn our happiness at least a meter from a roll of sadness
yellowing of the term, chronic from the prohibitions ...
... I miss you ... believe me, you hear? Take, tear &,
forever will be the scene of me shine your flooring ...