ГАФТ - Дело привычки
текст песни

The bird fluttered
The bowsteps fluttered
With rustle flies into milk
Arrow.

To the ancient pine
Smiles a childish smile
Old man.

Mine will pass, passed it
Of the year,
And die
No one is used to it.

Smiles a childish smile
Old man,
And the bird flies.

Matter of habit,
Simple algorithms inscribed in the blood
Matter of habit!
We do not understand each other without words.

Come on a familiar tram
To me
In the morning milk fog
Fly
Towards the sun, or maybe
Paradise.
Will I be late?
I will not be late!
We must go out in advance
At the right time
In the right place
The right word
In an unnecessary song.

Matter of habit,
Simple algorithms inscribed in the blood
Matter of habit!
We do not understand each other without words.