#chillout
(English adaptation)
Verse 1
Autumn’s getting dressed, moving softly, step by step,
Dissolving in the yellow leaves on overcast regrets.
Rain on asphalt turns to foamy, shallow lakes,
What does it mean for you — imagine what it means for space.
Under the doorway, waiting, umbrellas opened wide,
At night the beaches melt with burning sands and tides.
Autumn leads us somewhere, quiet, slow and low,
Further and further down the roads of crumpled snowless gold.
Pre-Chorus
So far you can’t remember where it all began,
At first those wounds were leaves we tried to save by hand.
You open up the window, let the raindrops in,
If you arrive too late — the rain will fall again.
Chorus
Autumn comes into our city, never asks our names,
Autumn doesn’t question anything that stays.
Autumn walks us slowly till the winter’s due,
Autumn — me and you.
Verse 2
Escaping the night rush of the restless town,
I walk through inner yards, the cold is settling down.
Leaves divided equally by parallel lines,
Temporary crows rain heavy on our minds.
Crowned with leaves, enchanted shadows on the walls,
Wind writes history where silence softly calls.
Every leaf’s a whisper of my coming dawn,
Alleys preach their scriptures while I’m moving on.
Someone’s chasing love — I hold it, barely breathe,
Keeping embers warm while others let it leave.
Our time flies away to endless open plains,
Autumn paints her patterns on the glass of your eyes again.
Chillout rooms reflected in the puddles’ shine,
Underneath my feet — the cities left behind.
The city quiets down like a wounded beast,
Playing on a piano made of memory.
Thousands of faces glowing in the frames,
Footprints in the yards still calling out our names.
Autumn draws old temples of the coming cold,
Like a call from other worlds we’ve never known.
Asking softly, fragile, into endless blue:
“World… do I love you?”
Chorus (repeat)
Autumn comes into our city, never asks our names,
Autumn doesn’t question anything that stays.
Autumn walks us slowly till the winter’s due,
Autumn — me and you.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 1:47 PM UTC
Feel the psychedelic beat
it makes me complete
gives a lazy Sunday
a new kind of heat
hate ol' Sunday
no good 'xcept for gin & old ladies
but now there's
this psychedelic beat
give it to me, Momma
sock it to me, Pappa
let me feel the heat
of this psychedelic beat
turning the world
into acid rainbows
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 1:52 PM UTC