холодная зима

The wind is touching,
Close enough to die from love.
The wind is touching,
Close enough to fall out of the love.
You keep me up at night;
But the stitches hide my soul from you.
You know I still love you the most,
But my body refuse the creature of yours.
And you will never know
The places that it likes to go,
But I still love you the most,
And my body will love you too.
The wind is touching,
Close enough to die from love.
The wind is touching,
Close enough to fall out of the love.
Sometimes we get into the troubles, sometimes it gets much worse,
Are you the poet of the poem, that was written on the stone?
Though I know that stitches watching, and they can break walls.
But are you the poet of the poem, that was written on the stone?
The wind is touching,
Close enough to die from love.
The wind is touching,
Close enough to fall out of the love.
So, do you afraid
Of the rain that falls on you?
Pulled down the coffin,
And washed the city with the sea.
So do you afraid
Of the rain that falls on you?
Don't leave me in the hallway,
Do not let it wash away the city with the sea.