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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БГ Ветер, туман и снег. Мы одни в этом доме. Не бойся стука в окно - Это ко мне, Это северный ветер, Мы у него в ладонях. Но северный ветер - мой друг, Он хранит все, что скрыто. Он

I don't deserve you, why can't you see I will desert you, why don't you leave But you put your faith in me one last time You, you put your faith in love

в этом городе ночь в этом городе день в этом городе зима в этом городе с утра снег в этом городе вдруг в этом городе друг эта белая чума без труда сведет с ума всех в эти дни в

Better take care Think I better go, better get a room Better take care of me Again and again I think about this and I think about personal history Better take care I breathe so deep

Время, назад ! Все разделилось вокруг на чужое и наше. Бросив на разные чаши Против и за, В календаре преднамеренно спутались числа. В том, что все это случилось - Я не со зла. Карты легли на такую