Every time (en ingles)

Every time
[Chorus]
If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people

If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people
[Verse 1]
“Where are you, when you’re not online, when I’m waiting for you online?”
In which links to go to just be there?
What are you thinking about now? Come among the thick birches
Read your favorite story – a page I, a page you
Or a visit – just tea, and hearts WhatsApp showered “
But I do not answer again. I’m incognito-incognita
But if they paid me, dear, every time your smoky eye
I seem to be missing somewhere, every time you dream of me
[Chorus]
If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people
If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people

[Verse 2]
The old burner splashes, but for two there is one welding
Outside the window is dark, in the window ticks, but the lamp-moon above the park
I again twist a finger on my finger, smell like my mother’s perfume
You want to take me off, take off, take off, and I want to write poetry verses
[Verse 3]
Leave, do not finish the tea. Snow or rain there – go away
Let at least just freeze, even though a tornado will carry away into the distance
Maybe there is still your tram? Maybe not? All the same, go
There’s a dank gray-haired February – he’s now, like you, alone
And you do not regret, do not be sorry, do not be sorry. Although the slo-mo in the smoke of cigarettes
Even in a minor under the piano, even under a sad violin is not present
If you did not like poetry, you would turn into a sonorous iambic
If you were a drug, I would become a phytoniac

[Chorus]
If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people
If I were paid every time
Every time I think about you
I would bum near the trails
I would become the poorest of people