ACROSS THE FROZEN MOSCOW RIVER
ON A SUNDAY MORNING
THE SMELL OF SNOW DUST
A DELICATE WHISPER
BLUE BLADES OF GLASS
TREES AND FAT CLOUDS
FACTORY SMOKE
PLASTIC BOOTS
MOVING DOWN THE THIN LINE
PICKING FROM THERE
SOME SILLY SYLLABLES
WORKERS STROLL
CHILDREN CARTS
A COUPLE KISSING
AND GRANDMA'S LATE DREAM
TODAY, THERE'S A BARRIER
A VAST WHITE LINE
TODAY THE SEASON'S CHANGING
I WONDER WHAT'S NEXT...
EVERYTHING IS IN ITS PLACE
YET, SOMETHING IS MISSING
MY MIND IS BLANK
SOME TIME LATER
ON A SUNDAY NIGHT
SITTING ON A TRAIN
THROUGH THE WHITE
LIGHTS ARE SPEEDING
COMPUTER SCREENS
SNORING MEN
SECOND CLASS SMOKING
NO PROBLEM, HERE
AN UNCOMFORTABLE SILENCE
DRINKING COFFEE
IN A franchise CUP
WRITING POSTCARDS
NOTHING FANCY
ALL IS QUIET
UNDER THE SHY SUN LIGHT
TONIGHT THERE'S A BARRIER
A VAST WHITE LINE
RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE
OFF THE BRIDGE
TONIGHT I'M BACK IN BEIRUT
WHAT'S NEXT...
TONIGHT SOMEONE IS MISSING
MY MIND IS BLANK...
MOSCOW DEC '09