Wedding Photographer
Funeral song put us as a wedding photographer
Photos making popane us in that Golden October
And 40 nights, like on top of them we counted some chronograph
Swirled snowflakes of care under the waltzes in your head
Who said it had to be this way and such terms
But it has long been supposed that the dead in forty days funeral service
Bad weather... what then in December there was bad weather
And at the heart of a Blizzard and I wanted to rant and rave
Nine months is not a period of time, said so himself Vysotsky
Just how much for those nine years I had to endure
And in July, when the land all in the thrall of nature
We had love, that was, to begin to serve a panikhida
And then the anniversary... just some kind of fairy tale, as if about demons
Led, whirled family home our demonic Blizzard
And you know, I never particularly believed
But love is lost, I do not know what to think sometimes
And now anniversary I love and feasts meet
Everything's just and date would like, but hard to forget
Because love is March, and the Lord in all the world revives
But the funeral feast - September... in September I have to re-live
I'm looking for, I'm looking to kind some sort of wizard
Able from past years this song somehow remove and erase
That included us once the drunk at the wedding photographer
I forgot about everything... and be able hymn to love to sing again
19.08.14 AKC
© Copyright: Konstantin Achapowski, 2014
The certificate of publication No. 114081801379
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