Mr.Humbert - 8 марта
текст песни

You're on posters, on magazine pages
On the street, in the subway, you're completely gone from home
Your waist has sunken, your skin hangs loose on your bones
Is it spring, or maybe you're just tired?

My thoughts have dried up, I'll put them in the closet behind glass.
I'll close the shutters, in the dark until the next day.
I'll sit silently, silently wishing myself a Happy 8th of March.
Waiting for you.

Here and now, next to me on the bed.
On the spread of a book about us.
I sit and cry, for some reason.
Turning every second into an hour.
You were affectionate, unique, tender.
You gave me a sincere look in the morning.
Well, now you've become a common bitch.
Not the first, there are others here and there.

My heart beats like a drum.
Echoing the rhythm of endless injustice.
And now, it seems, the sun is already rising.
Each drop of dew, framing it in a carat.
I'd be glad to embrace you completely.
To clasp your shoulders and legs.
And if it were autumn, I could fall like a leaf.
Into your hands, into my cruel one.