Чудесный вечер и не только.

[ladylikeyou]

Если грустно-неуютно и  хочется пушистого тепла  - добавьте к согревающему пуншу Simon and Garfunkel!

It's a still life watercolor
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtain lace
And shadows wash the room

And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar

In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives

And you read your Emily Dickenson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost

Like a poem poorly written
We are persons out of rhythm
Couplets out fo rhyme
In syncopated time

And the dangling conversation
The superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives

Yes, we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
Can analysis be worthwhile
Is the theatre really dead

And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me

Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives

It's a still life watercolor
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtain lace
And shadows wash the room
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickinson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm
Couplets out of rhyme
In syncopated time.
And the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives
Yes we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
Can analysis be worthwhile?
Is the theatre really dead?
And how the room has softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives

It's a still life watercolor
Of a now late afternoon
As the sun shines through the curtain lace
And shadows wash the room
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
The borders of our lives
And you read your Emily Dickenson
And I my Robert Frost
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost
Like a poem poorly written
We are persons out of rhythm
Couplets out fo rhyme
In syncopated time
And the dangling conversation
The superficial sighs
Are the borders of our lives
Yes, we speak of things that matter
With words that must be said
Can analysis be worthwhile
Is the theatre really dead
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow
I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives.