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Heavy thunderclouds frown over the meadow. I breathe the anxieties of the storm, tasting the wind. Last year's transparent skeletons rise from the ground, but not reaching the branches, they fall prostrate, into curls of grass. The trees rustle, disappointed with how quickly the leaves have given up, their humility and my indifference. The light and all the shades have faded. Dove-gray mourners crowd around... Haven't they saved my tears in their wombs? To grieve my own sorrows with me.
New track from upcoming album. Music, Lyrics: Your Schizophrenia ( Natalia Drepina)