Call me with
Again, from my evil wind of change
You take,
Do not leave me even a shadow in return,
And he did not ask
Maybe I want to fly away with you
Yellow fall foliage,
Bird in a blue dream.

Call me with
I will pass through a bad night,
I will go after you,
That would be no way I predicted.
I will come back to where you are
Draw a sun in the sky,
Where broken dreams
Gain power over the height.

What I was looking for you through the years
In the crowd of passers-by.
I thought, you will be with me forever,
But you're gone.
You are now in a crowd does not know me,
Just as before, loving,
I release you.

Call me with
I will pass through a bad night,
I will go after you,
That would be no way I predicted.
I will come back to where you are
Draw a sun in the sky,
Where broken dreams
Gain power over the height.

Each time, as soon as night descends
On the sleeping city,
I'm running away from home sleepless
In anguish and cold.
I'm looking for among the dreams of faceless you
But the doors of a new day
Once again, I'm going without you.

Call me with
I will pass through a bad night,
I will go after you,
That would be no way I predicted.
I will come back to where you are
Draw a sun in the sky,
Where broken dreams
Gain power over the height.

The lights are slowly fading down
There's no one else, just you and me
Nothing ever changed
I see your faces in the crowd
It seems I know each one of you
For all my life
I wish this night could last forever
But it's time to go
I saw you laugh, I saw you cry
All for one and one for all
Nothing ever changed
The way you sang just blew my mind
It gave me chills from head to toe
What a glorious night
To me it could have lasted forever
But it's time to go

As for me, I love instrumental music. But also I have favourite songs with texts.
One of them:
Emilie Autumn "How strange"
You know I think it's strange
Just a little bit deranged
That you think I'm gonna change to make you happy
If you can tell me why
I should wait around then I
May be coming down
But until then this means
You can see me in your dreams

I very much like Marina Tsvetaeva's creativity. Here one of its poems "How many them fell in this chasm":

How many they fell in this chasm,
Razverzty in the distance!
Day when also I will disappear will come
From an earth surface.

Everything will stiffen that sang and fought,
Shone and was torn.
And greens of my eyes, and gentle voice,
And gold of hair.

Also there will be a life with its daily bread,
With forgetfulness of day.
Also there will be all - as if under the sky
Also there was no I!

Changeable, as children, in each mine,
And so not for long malicious,
Loving hour, when firewood in a fireplace
Become ashes.

Violoncello, and cavalcades in a thicket,
And a bell in the village...
- Me, such live and real
On the tender earth!

To all of you - that to me, in anything not knowing measure,
Another's and?! -
I address with the belief requirement
And with a request for love.

Both day and night, and in writing and orally:
For the truth yes and no,
For that to me is so frequent - too sadly
And only twenty years,

For that to me direct inevitability -
Forgiveness of offenses,
For all I wash impetuous tenderness
And too proud look,

For speed of prompt events,
For the truth, for game...
- Listen! - Still me love
For that I will die.

For me verses and songs have deep impressions and experiences.
Especially products, A.S.Pushkin's verses - the permanent poet, Sergey Yesenin.
Also poets and composers of our platform very are pleasant. Such as: Igor Nikolays, Konstantin Meladze, Igor Krutoj, some other.
Music is the world of sensation, sounds, combinations. I do not represent life without any music.

The song "Alex Clare - Too close" is one of my favorite songs in English. It has great lyrics, accompanied by great music. And what do you need to call a song as a good one?
You know I'm not one to break promises.
I don't wanna hurt you but I need to breathe.
At the end of it all, you're still my best friend.
But there's something inside that I need to release.
Which way is right? Which way is wrong?
How do I say that I need to move on?
You know we're heading separate ways...

Feels like I am just too close to love you.
There's nothing I can really say.
I can't lie no more, I can't hide no more,
Got to be true to myself.
And it feels like I am just too close to love you.
So I'll be on my way...

I am a fan of the art of Lana Del Rey. This singer is excellent. Her voice is compared to such singers as Nancy Sinatra, Ambrosia Parsley. Her style is reminiscent of glitter and glamor of old Hollywood. My favorite song:

Born To Die

Feet don’t fail me now
Take me to the finish line
All my heart, it breaks every step that I take
But I’m hoping that the gates,
They’ll tell me that you’re mine

Walking through the city streets
Is it by mistake or design?
I feel so alone on a Friday night
Can you make it feel like home, if I tell you you’re mine
It’s like I told you honey

Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough
I don’t know why
Keep making me laugh,
Let’s go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane
Choose your last words
This is the last time
Cause you and I, we were born to die

Lost but now I am found
I can see but once I was blind
I was so confused as a little child
Tried to take what I could get
Scared that I couldn’t find
All the answers, honey

Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough
I don’t know why
Keep making me laugh,
Let’s go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane
Choose your last words,
This is the last time
Cause you and I

We were born to die

Fell in love not long ago with Vera Polozkova's poem, "Bernard writes to Esther... " and Esther's answer to his letter. Her fan I can't call myself, but it doesn't leave the head for a long time...

Bernard writes to Esther: "I have family and the house.
I conduct, and I was never conducted by anybody.
In the mornings I walk with Jess, at night I drink rum with ice.
But when I see you – I even labor for breath".

Bernard writes to Esther: "I have near the house a pond,
Children go there to bathe, but to a thicket say lies,
What to bathe; I saw everything — Singapore, Beirut,
From the Icelandic fjords to the Somali ores,
But I will die if at me you select".

Bernard writes: "Income, finance and audit,
The jeep with the driver, from columns sings Edith,
Discount thirty percent in the favourite bar,
But pour always on credit,
And you look – and as if God to me in eyes looks".

Bernard writes "To me forty eight, as to other secular bald lions,
I remember who I am, according to the visa, the passport and the rights,
Nuclear burial ground, water the flooded ditch,
Subordinates as size, I consider on the heads –
But here if words is too money,
That you to me not by words".

"My girl, you beautiful, as банши.
You came to tell me: you will die but while breathe,
Only don't write to me, Esther, please, don't write.
No soul after all will suffice,
My tired soul".

And here Esther's answer...

Esther writes to the answer:
No, Bernard, no
you one, on all this world
on a floor to сир a time your trace
and I don't wash month a parquet in this place
you broke me again having told Hello

"Non! Je ne regrette rien"
Bernard, even Edith goes on
Our tenderness to us won't do much harm
What you are a blockhead, Bernard
I trust a month more
tendernesses, only remember, she watches you

You know, Bernard, in the district now not a soul
And how here to restrain that Don't write"
Come yesterday, smoke, hide eyes, hurry
about heart still though one hot extinguish
after that it is possible and to die in calm

Hi, Bernard, is Esther
if from memory yet I didn't erase
that that will replace with a move the wife and two sisters
that, whose letters you truly threw into a fire
that whose I smother you forever, at it I filched...

My favorite poet Edward Asadov. I love lyrical works. My preference in prose is very diverse. I love to spend an evening with a book in hands. Unfortunately I have little free time.