Prevod: Siddharta. Modras.
Saturday evening, Saturday evening, a quarter to five Oh, we see him arrive at the door Pushed you aside as he staggered inside Spitting alcohol over
Otra historia de amor Hoy se ha vuelto a escribir Con las lagrimas de un engano En mala hora llego Aquel pirata de bar Que me ofrecia una isla En el
It's too late to worry (I'm too blue to cry) I broke your heart dear, I was untrue And now I've lost you, what can I do I hope you're happy baby for
Blue on blue, heartache on heartache Blue on blue, now that we are through Blue on blue, heartache on heartache And I find I can't get over losing you
Baby, tomorrow I?ma have to fight Leaving at first light and all I can think of is you Baby, I can hear you tryin' not to cry I?m afraid and I ain?t gonna
From the Album: * Golden Earring When I wake up early in the morning and sometimes I really do Then you get up and you do some yawning That's nothing
I've lost my battle before it starts my first breath wasn't done my spirit's sunken deep into the ground why am I alone I can hear my heartbeat silence
It's not raining cats, it's not raining dogs And pigs are not flying or turning the cogs The sun has no hat on whenever it shines And I've never seen
You call me up When you're done with him But you tell me that's just dumb I don't need much to get by If I can't have the cake I'll settle for the crumbs
I see blue I see black I see you In a crack I see snow I see cold I see someone Getting old And it's cold outside So cold outside I need pink I need
Thy will be done Here on this highway In every house and field I pray All in meekness yield, aided by want Among stranger people To disgrace so soon
They come from every corner of our country, The cities, the mountains an' the farms. Modern-day minutemen and wiomen, Like our heroes from the past,
Mouths of dust and ruptured windpipe Fairytales for lying cheats They're lashing out like wolves in barbed wire Ring the bells and start the fires now
With the ease of a practiced smile The tears of a crocodile Well shake then wash your hands Of the smell of foreign land The propaganda woman said It
Every single time it becomes too much There's nothing I can say or I can touch But the glory is, as it comes passing through I know I will be there when
In Hundred Days they Sailed Towards Grandious Battles far Away With Swords of Coldest Black Steel Bitter at Heart and with Eager to Kill Awaiting Blackheim
Have you ever created a place that feels safe to hide It may not be a room with four walls, just a Place you've created in the mind A kind of heaven a
