Текст песни Poets Of The Fall - Miss Imposible

Она способна разглядеть
Четыре спутника за минуту.
И найти четырехлистный клевер
Там, где вообще не бывает цветов.
Она привычно парадоксальна,
Параллельно перпендикулярна.

Босиком, в ночной рубашке,
Она танцует под дождем,
От заката до заката,
Она словно смывает свою боль.

И она прекрасная, непредсказуемая,
Чертовски неотразимая,
Не любить ее просто нереально.
Она - мое основное чувство,
Пир во время чумы,
Но какое это имеет значение,
Ведь поймать ее невозможно.

Она действительно может быть удобной,
Подобно домовенкам, которые готовят кушать.
Она может закатить истерику,
Но не настолько, чтобы сорваться.
Она как конспект нужных качеств,
Море энергетики.

В прозрачном пеньюаре,
Босиком, она танцует под дождем,
От заката до заката,
Она словно смывает свою боль.

И она прекрасная, непредсказуемая,
Чертовски неотразимая,
Не любить ее просто нереально.
Она - мое основное чувство,
Пир во время чумы,
Но какое это имеет значение,
Это не обсуждается

She can see about four satellites
Every minute of the hour
And find a four leaf clover
Where you never saw a flower
She's habitually paradoxical,
A parallel perpendicular

Barefoot in nightgowns,
That's how she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown,
Like she was washing 'way her pain

As she is beautiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's impossible to bait her

She can really be a handful
like the brownies that she bakes you
It can be a tad hysterical,
But never quite the breakthrough
She's some kind of an epitome,
The sea of intranquility

In flimsy nightgowns,
Barefoot she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown,
Like she was washing 'way her pain

As she is beautiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's an impossible debate

It is able to discern
Four satellites per minute.
And find a four-leaf clover
Where there is no color .
She habitually paradoxical ,
Parallel to perpendicular .

Barefoot and in a nightgown ,
She dances in the rain,
From sunset to sunset ,
She seemed to wash away your pain .

And she is a beautiful , unpredictable ,
Damn compelling ,
Do not love it just is not realistic.
She - my main feeling
Feast in Time of Plague ,
But what does it matter ,
After all, it is impossible to catch .

It can really be comfortable,
Like domovenkom who cook eat .
She can throw a tantrum ,
But not enough to hang on.
It is like a summary of the necessary qualities
Sea power.

In a transparent negligee
Barefoot , she dances in the rain,
From sunset to sunset ,
She seemed to wash away your pain .

And she is a beautiful , unpredictable ,
Damn compelling ,
Do not love it just is not realistic.
She - my main feeling
Feast in Time of Plague ,
But what does it matter ,
It is not discussed

She can see about four satellites
Every minute of the hour
And find a four leaf clover
Where you never saw a flower
She's habitually paradoxical,
A parallel perpendicular

Barefoot in nightgowns,
That's how she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown,
Like she was washing 'way her pain

As she is beautiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's impossible to bait her

She can really be a handful
like the brownies that she bakes you
It can be a tad hysterical,
But never quite the breakthrough
She's some kind of an epitome,
The sea of ​​intranquility

In flimsy nightgowns,
Barefoot she dances in the rain
Sundown to sundown,
Like she was washing 'way her pain

As she is beautiful, she's unpredictable
Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her
She is my common sense, revels on decadence
But what's the difference, it's an impossible debate