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