Paint Your Picture

Pictures on my wall,
Fifteen different colours,
Starting with vermillion-
The first flower of the summer,
And don't think I'll be finished
Till I've begun to understand this,
With you stretched out in the sunlight,
As your laughter fills my canvas
The sun falls in my fingers,
On your back against the blinds,
It's tracing out your hollows
It is filling in your lines,
There your curl finds your spiral
As you silhouette the window,
When my brush forgives itself
Spills lines upon your pillow,
Finds you standing in the middle
Of the lines you've laid down before
Try to trace my picture into yours
Let me paint you in the corner,
As your shoulders trap the light
See the sunset feeling golden
On the wineskins of the night
I have seen your eyes in paintings
As Cathedrals cried Hosanna
Let me paint your face in frescos
Hang your hair like Angelabra
See you standing in the middle
Of lines you laid down before,
Try to paint my picture into yours
In the morning let me find you
As I call to you by name,
Your body warm beside me
Not imprisoned in a frame
I could never find the colours
Or the light that finely paints you
With those roses in your hair
Smell of wine, immortal perfume
As you're standing in the middle
Of lines you laid down before
Tryin' to paint my picture into yours

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Всё выдумано слишком хитро. Не разобраться без субтитров, Без психоанализа никуда нельзя, Будь сложней и люди к тебе потянутся.” Это теперь такой девиз, удивись. И не спи - попадёшься на NLP. А простота и доброжелательность - Это

Lady's and djentlmen this is The king of the ring La mouse a touse pou cude me kino Pa phoude te toua da cude Koshe dwa-de dwa da gode zip den vana ande Je fer

[Originally by David Essex] Hey kid, rock and roll Rock on, ooh, my soul Hey kid, boogey too, did ya Hey shout, summertime blues Jump up and down in my blue suede shoes Hey kid, rock

Who would have ever thought The day could ever come When we would see A love like this fall into pieces And it hurts me to know that now 'til then I'll only have these

Муз: Н. Каблуков Сл. С.Шаров Вот такие дела, вот такие дела, Опять потерян год, начиная прямо с утра. Вот такие дела, вот такие дела, Сердце моё поёт, вот такие слова: Ах, как хочется быть, быть, быть,