People cannot be alone

People cannot be alone, Pack in packs, make cities, People regret that they Do not fly like cranes. They are looking for a piece of land, Where they hope to wait out the cold, Sorry, mother, – there is no such land. There was no point in waiting anymore And dividing the white light into truth and false, There was no point in wondering again What wind blew us away. Where were you that day, When my happiness came close to me, Smiled and passed by me. Turn around, turn around And go through me with a red thread, I don’t know who you are and what kind of cross you carry, Turn around, I’m here. The wind knocks on my house again, Loneliness creeps into every crack, And to a simple question "for what?" I can’t find the answer. Is it so important that then, Maybe we are someone’s target, Turn around – there is no further way. Turn around, turn around And go through me with a red thread, I don’t know who you are and what kind of cross you carry, Turn around, I’m here. Turn around, turn around And go through me with a red thread, I don’t know who you are and what kind of cross you carry, Turn around, I’m here.

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