Текст песни Железо и Вино - Передача Во Второй Половине Дня

There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon
Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon
And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her
Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms

There are things that drift away like our endless, numbered days
Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made
And she's chosen to believe in the hymns her mother sings
Sunday pulls its children from their piles of fallen leaves

There are sailing ships that pass all our bodies in the grass
Springtime calls her children 'till she let's them go at last
And she's chosen where to be, though she's lost her wedding ring
Somewhere near her misplaced jar of Bougainvillea seeds

There are things we can't recall, blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers, rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I'd never learned

There are names across the sea, only now I do believe
Sometimes, with the windows closed, she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered clothes and they'll kiss as if they know
A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone

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Бывает, время летит так быстро, как дни, мимолетно
Теплое лето - хорошее время для медового месяца
Помню, когда раньше она жгла листья на заднем дворе
А ее дети ковырялись в цветках бугенвиллии деревянными ложками

Есть вещи, которые проходят так быстро, как наши бесчисленные, бесконечные дни
Осенью листья падают и покрывают землю пестрой мозаикой
Она верит в гимны, что поет ее мама
А в воскресенье дети словно вылезают из куч опавших листьев

Когда лежим на траве, мимо нас словно проплывают кораблики
Весной она наконец-то разрешает своим детям погулять
Она выбрала, где ей быть, хотя и потеряла свое обручальное кольцо
Где-то во дворе среди цветов бугенвиллии

Бывают вещи, которые невозможно вспомнить, словно ночью ничего не видишь
Зимой ее дети сидят дома, чтобы с ними ничего не случилось, с этими хрупкими словно фарфоровые куколки, детьми
Я помню, как мы с ней голыми руками окучивали кусты папоротника
Но я никогда не смогу выучить ее секреты, как и песни

Я верю, даже через океан она услышит
Иногда она сидит и думает обо мне у закрытого окна
Она починит его порванную одежду и они поцелуются, ведь они знают, что
Ребенок спит у них на руках, ведь ему страшно одному

There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon
Summer warmed the open window of her honeymoon
And she chose a yard to burn but the ground remembers her
Wooden spoons, her children stir her Bougainvillea blooms

There are things that drift away like our endless, numbered days
Autumn blew the quilt right off the perfect bed she made
And she's chosen to believe in the hymns her mother sings
Sunday pulls its children from their piles of fallen leaves

There are sailing ships that pass all our bodies in the grass
Springtime calls her children 'till she let's them go at last
And she's chosen where to be, though she's lost her wedding ring
Somewhere near her misplaced jar of Bougainvillea seeds

There are things we can not recall, blind as night that finds us all
Winter tucks her children in, her fragile china dolls
But my hands remember hers, rolling 'round the shaded ferns
Naked arms, her secrets still like songs I'd never learned

There are names across the sea, only now I do believe
Sometimes, with the windows closed, she'll sit and think of me
But she'll mend his tattered clothes and they'll kiss as if they know
A baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone

=========================================

Often , time flies so fast , as the days and fleetingly
Warm summer - a good time for honeymoon
I remember when before it burned the leaves in the backyard
And her children rummaging in the flowers of bougainvillea wooden spoons

There are things that are as fast as our countless , endless days
Autumn leaves fall and cover the ground motley mosaic
She believes in the hymns that sings her mom
And on Sunday, the kids like getting out of the piles of fallen leaves

When lying on the grass , past us like a float boats
In the spring she finally lets his children to walk
She chose where it should be, although it has lost his wedding ring
Somewhere in the courtyard of bougainvillea flowers

There are things that are not there , if you do not see anything at night
In winter, her children are sitting at home , to them nothing happened , these fragile like a porcelain doll , children
I remember how we handle it with bare hands spud fern bushes
But I could never learn her secrets , as well as songs

I believe , even across the ocean she hears
Sometimes she sits and thinks about me at the closed window
It will fix his torn clothes and they kiss , because they know that
Baby sleeps on their hands , because he was afraid one