My Music Visit
Remembrance of the past,
The abandoned,
The accordeon is lost.
a bottle to the wall.
in the wheels of the wheels,
Unnamed but bright.
and the light of the light,
Only his throne.
As if it didn’t go...
As long as friends
I was crying with my pockets.
His tears were thrown on the mouth,
He gave himself like a candle of flame.
The dark shed a drop of wax.
And he sounded.
And all that I understand.
He seemed obedient under his hand.
My instrument,
What do you do with the tooth keys?
From the smoke of the years took the yellow,
scraping the registers,
Unable to cope with time,
The sound impresses the news.
And the soul,
He is immortal, immortal.
in the body of the brick, swallowing in years,
The old man did not learn, and he was a prisoner.
The sound of the octum is more accurate and clean.
#Poetry #Music #Stihi #Music
The abandoned,
The accordeon is lost.
a bottle to the wall.
in the wheels of the wheels,
Unnamed but bright.
and the light of the light,
Only his throne.
As if it didn’t go...
As long as friends
I was crying with my pockets.
His tears were thrown on the mouth,
He gave himself like a candle of flame.
The dark shed a drop of wax.
And he sounded.
And all that I understand.
He seemed obedient under his hand.
My instrument,
What do you do with the tooth keys?
From the smoke of the years took the yellow,
scraping the registers,
Unable to cope with time,
The sound impresses the news.
And the soul,
He is immortal, immortal.
in the body of the brick, swallowing in years,
The old man did not learn, and he was a prisoner.
The sound of the octum is more accurate and clean.
#Poetry #Music #Stihi #Music