Mikhail Bennett - Я Всё еще жду своего сына

My hands shake with age, as they kneel on the floor.
I'm waiting, my son, though my hair's turning gray.
The cloud keeps stealing my stage every day.
God tall is my heart, what my eyes cannot see.
If someday you'll come back, and run back to me.
I taught you to pray, to stand when you fall.
Now I talk to your shadow on this cracked hallway wall.
The world took your hand, pulled you far from my sight.