ЗВЗ - Песня о песне - текст песни, слова, перевод, видео

I could write about the hatred I feel for you.

I could tell about the hurt I would hide from everyone,

It would be the saddest story that will ever see the light of day.

But the devil pulled me by the hand not to write about feelings that don't exist.

I would like to make more phrases, so that one for the whole verse,

But it's a pity, I will never be able to, I don't have the skill for that either.

What's left? What should I write about? I still haven't given myself a clear answer,

That's why I wanted to write a strange song about something that doesn't exist.

The song will miss the depressive playlist and won't make the couple's evening happy,

The main thing is that I'm honest with myself, but it's a pity, not with you and the one I meet.

And maybe there will be a hidden meaning here, but he also decided to bypass

The sad guy who came up with the lyrics, but didn't come up with what would be behind the line. And if, nevertheless, that storm of emotions, swirling somewhere in the background,

Now suddenly flares up, or rather explodes, demolishing everything hidden in the Mezzanine,

Then I probably really can't sit still, and in the text at least I didn't make something up,

And part of my feelings, with which I'm trying to fight, do not resemble an old fiction.

Nothing is left,

Nothing at all,

Half-erased memory

And scraps of feeling that once passed,

Nothing is left,

Nothing at all,

Not even photographs.

Everything is drowning in the darkness in a frozen nothing.

Nothing is left,

Nothing at all,

Half-erased memory

And scraps of feeling that once passed,

Nothing is left,

Nothing at all,

Not even photographs.

Everything is drowning in the darkness in a frozen nothing.

Everything had to end like this, we won’t throw a fit before leaving

And those very echoes of the past that could have remained, you will discard on the way

They will whisper to me all winter and autumn, having found another, I will not say “forgive me”,

Let them remain until your copy burns all the old drafts

I will leave our films with a picture of a happy future on the shelf for another me

And I will take a beer, quietly take off my shoes, sit down in a chair to finish writing the text

But then I will understand that there is nothing left to write about, everything has passed, and the snow has melted

It’s a pity, for a long time that fire that suddenly disappeared will not rage

Easy, cheerful, suddenly sad, easy again, and immediately into the minus

There is no what was called feelings, the autumn wind blows in the back

Easy, cheerful, suddenly sad, it will not be easier, only a minus

What was once called feelings, it was the hardest thing for me to throw away

Easy, cheerful, suddenly sad, easy again, and immediately into the minus

There is nothing that was called feelings, the autumn wind blows in my back

Easy, cheerful, suddenly sad, it will not be easier, only a minus

What was once called feelings, it was the hardest thing for me to throw away

Nothing left,

Nothing at all,

Half-erased memory

And scraps of feeling that once passed,

Nothing left,

Nothing at all,

Not even photographs.

Everything is drowning in the darkness in the frozen nothing.

Nothing left,

Nothing at all,

Half-erased memory

And scraps of feeling that once passed,

Nothing left,

Nothing at all,

Not even photographs.