Sleepy smile of my man –
Here it what, happiness without the reason,
Here they what, caress oceans,
That usual midday turn into the fairy tale.
Bigger it isn't necessary to me in this world –
Someone da close by a row of dream of summer,
Together to come to an old age and to consider wrinkles –
Here it what, happiness without the reason.
When the fragile boat of the relations breaks up in half, one its half together with everything that was important and expensive, prompt goes to a bottom, and the second half, absolutely empty, remains afloat. And we flounder between and we don't know what to do: to dive into the abyss and to drag on itself, all that was, or to float forward towards to the ship of the destiny.