More songs by zhanulka
Description
Eighteen is the age when the candles on the cake are blown out to the sound of rockets rather than fireworks. When instead of plans for tomorrow, there is a backpack that has become your only home. But even in this fragile reality, there is a stubborn hope: to meet in the spring, in May, in Kiev, as if there you can still simply love, share a cigarette, and not be afraid of the next scene. Bitter, bright, and honestly spine-tingling.
Composer: Zhanna Shatalova
Lyricist: Zhanna Shatalova
Lyrics and translation
There are no lyrics added for this song yet.