Line, Артём Татищевский - Мотылёк
текст песни

(Heart - cold ice)
(Music - fire)
(In which yours burns out)
(The last butterfly)
I lost myself that May, and probably didn’t find
Soul in the fog, silence - a favorite interlocutor
On forty-five squares here the orchestra roars
In life solo, fear of being alone forever
Selfish type who lies to himself so often
I don’t let close, I drag my pain as ballast
I once showed my weak spots here
And you know, oddly enough, they hit me right there
I don’t trust people, I don’t strive for them to trust
They swore their love to me on their knees here, but they screwed me
Draw the curtains, so as not to hear the city, the noise of cars
And alone it’s easier to find reasons to live
I can twitch nerves with words, get under the skin
I can spontaneously cause tears, a strong attack of pain
I broke myself into one and collected myself in parts
I like a Lego constructor, without a single piece
(Without a heart)
A heart is cold ice
Music is fire
In which your
Last butterfly is burning out
A heart is cold ice
Music is fire
In which your
Last butterfly is burning out
I could have done a lot, a lot was lost
In the account of aggression, I will instantly scan you by your habits
I learned from mistakes, from street movements
There were many faces, many who considered themselves savvy
Fell down, they understood my character
In this reality
(Yes)
They forgive, they say, smile
(And me?)
I forgive, but no longer close ones
My path is winding, my days are identical
To those that flew by
I don’t dream so often
(Yes)
And getting out of bed, I plunge into affairs
Until melting, from Monday
A heart is cold ice
Music is fire
In which your
Last butterfly burns out
Heart is cold ice
Music is fire
In which your
Last butterfly burns out