Лирика Ватных Стен - Пыльный Сиам
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Под слоем пыли Сиам укрыт был или,
Воздух пропитан смертью этой идиллии,
И мы ходили по нему и видели,
Как умирали в театре актеры и зрители...
Сиам - стал пустыней и отныне,
Бога нет здесь - это место хранимо пылью,
Корабли уплыли на запад на закате,
Землю покрывая крестами на картах...
Вдохни пыль эту... Редко кому она откроет свои секреты,
Солдаты где-то топчут остатки прошлого
И лишь пыль пытается спрятать следы Божьи.
Это цена цивилизации, глаза чужие - на жизнь смотрят иначе,
Видят лучше чем свои... И если спросите Вы:
Сколько стоит свобода?" - То я отвечу:
"Смерть и годы, годы, годы..."
Дожди дошли и до наших дорог,
Капли отбивают пороги под крик ворон,
Только бы побыть немного тут и увидеть море,
Сегодня ночью нас с тобой туман накроет,
Мосты соединяют берега, а мы дрейфуем,
В глазах пылает райский сад, роняя угли,
Из рук новых солдат, с покорностью Адама
Мы принимаем смерть очередного Сиама...
Пыль - это бархат,
Который ты никогда не ощутишь...
Дождь - это пыль,
Узнавшая небесную тишь...
Сиам, сиял алым блеском,
Сиам - возведен из небес сей храм,
Бесчислицы отец не увидит детей,
Перед смертью Таиланда,
Ведь кровь наконец-то обрела форму пыли,
Они пали... Нематериально.. Больные свободой
Забыли свой дом, истории проданы
И вот он стон их выдуманной родины,
Потравили всё... Господи, Тебя просим мы,
Сохранить от них мир этой любви,
Ведь звёзды ожили,
А ты сожги их заживо
Переставши быть природой демонов исчадий наших...
Пыль - это бархат,
Который ты никогда не ощутишь...
Дождь - это пыль,
Узнавшая небесную тишь...
Сиам спал под пыльной скамейкой...
Уже несколько тысяч недель,
Мельком из хриплых стёкол автобуса
Солдаты видели линейки зданий,
Гладкие местами, протёртые от слоёв,
Что поедали их до утомившихся
Тяжестью фундаментов, тянущихся вдаль...
Эту землю громко топтали ноги в ботинках,
Владельцы мира с потёртых ярких картинок..
Владельцы, в форме младенцев,
С винтовками, средь забинтованных,
Таких же картонных,
Запылившихся от обильных действий,
Уставших ссылаться на слова библейские,
Прощения просили уста, но их били,
Тонкие листья деревьев пили сок рек пылью,
Они давно не были природой,
Лишь редко-часто это значилось словом объекта,
Хромая метры, проходила ходьба искусанная,
Обвешанная бусами трав, вдыхая вкусы и к земле,
Казалось жизнь - отсутствие травм,
Хотелось грызить плиты дырявых воздушных карманов,
Земля рассованная пакетами - томилась в духоте,
Когда-то, кто-то с кем-то..
Обжимая винтовки хотел дать миру начало уже данное,
Теперь сдавленное остатками, как последнее танго....
Пыль - это бархат,
Который ты никогда не ощутишь...
Дождь - это пыль,
Узнавшая небесную тишь...
Under a layer of dust, Siam was hidden or,
The air is saturated with the death of this idyll,
And we walked along it and saw it
How actors and spectators died in the theater ...
Siam - became a desert and from now on,
There is no God here - this place is kept by dust,
Ships sailed west at sunset,
Covering the ground with crosses on the maps ...
Inhale this dust ... rarely to whom she will reveal her secrets,
Soldiers are trampling the remnants of the past somewhere
And only dust tries to hide the traces of God.
This is the price of civilization, the eyes of strangers - they look at life differently,
They see better than their own ... and if you ask:
How much does freedom cost? " - then I will answer:
"Death and years, years, years ..."
Rains reached our roads,
Drops beat the thresholds under the scream of the raven,
If only to be a little here and see the sea,
Tones will cover me with you tonight,
Bridges connect the shores, and we will drift,
The Garden of Highs is burning in the eyes, dropping coals,
From the hands of new soldiers, with the humility of Adam
We accept the death of another Siam ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
Siam, shone with a scarlet brilliance,
Siam - this temple was erected from heaven,
Counters Father will not see children
Before the death of Thailand,
After all, blood finally found the shape of dust,
They fell ... intangible .. Patients with freedom
Forgot your house, stories sold
And here he is the moan of their invented homeland,
We poisoned everything ... Lord, we ask you,
Keep the world of this love from them,
After all, the stars came to life
And you burn them alive
Having ceased to be the nature of the demons of the faccity of our ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
Siam slept under a dusty bench ...
For several thousand weeks now,
Briefly from hoarse bus glasses
The soldiers saw the ruler of the buildings,
Smooth in places, wiped from layers,
That they ate them to tired
The severity of the foundations stretching into the distance ...
This earth trampled loudly in the boots,
Owners of the world from shaved bright pictures ..
Owners, in the form of babies,
With rifles, in the middle of the bandaged,
The same cardboard,
Dusty from abundant actions,
Tired of referring to the words biblical,
Forgiveness asked for the mouth, but they were beaten,
Thin leaves of the trees drank the juice of rivers with dust,
They have not been nature for a long time
Only rarely, often this was the word of the object,
Lame meters, the walking was bored,
Hung with beads of herbs, inhaling tastes and to the ground,
Life seemed - lack of injuries,
I wanted to gnaw the slabs of holey air pockets,
The earth was packed with packages - languished in stuffiness,
Once, someone with someone ..
Squeezing the rifles wanted to give the world the beginning already given,
Now suppressed by the remnants, like the last tango ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
The air is saturated with the death of this idyll,
And we walked along it and saw it
How actors and spectators died in the theater ...
Siam - became a desert and from now on,
There is no God here - this place is kept by dust,
Ships sailed west at sunset,
Covering the ground with crosses on the maps ...
Inhale this dust ... rarely to whom she will reveal her secrets,
Soldiers are trampling the remnants of the past somewhere
And only dust tries to hide the traces of God.
This is the price of civilization, the eyes of strangers - they look at life differently,
They see better than their own ... and if you ask:
How much does freedom cost? " - then I will answer:
"Death and years, years, years ..."
Rains reached our roads,
Drops beat the thresholds under the scream of the raven,
If only to be a little here and see the sea,
Tones will cover me with you tonight,
Bridges connect the shores, and we will drift,
The Garden of Highs is burning in the eyes, dropping coals,
From the hands of new soldiers, with the humility of Adam
We accept the death of another Siam ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
Siam, shone with a scarlet brilliance,
Siam - this temple was erected from heaven,
Counters Father will not see children
Before the death of Thailand,
After all, blood finally found the shape of dust,
They fell ... intangible .. Patients with freedom
Forgot your house, stories sold
And here he is the moan of their invented homeland,
We poisoned everything ... Lord, we ask you,
Keep the world of this love from them,
After all, the stars came to life
And you burn them alive
Having ceased to be the nature of the demons of the faccity of our ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
Siam slept under a dusty bench ...
For several thousand weeks now,
Briefly from hoarse bus glasses
The soldiers saw the ruler of the buildings,
Smooth in places, wiped from layers,
That they ate them to tired
The severity of the foundations stretching into the distance ...
This earth trampled loudly in the boots,
Owners of the world from shaved bright pictures ..
Owners, in the form of babies,
With rifles, in the middle of the bandaged,
The same cardboard,
Dusty from abundant actions,
Tired of referring to the words biblical,
Forgiveness asked for the mouth, but they were beaten,
Thin leaves of the trees drank the juice of rivers with dust,
They have not been nature for a long time
Only rarely, often this was the word of the object,
Lame meters, the walking was bored,
Hung with beads of herbs, inhaling tastes and to the ground,
Life seemed - lack of injuries,
I wanted to gnaw the slabs of holey air pockets,
The earth was packed with packages - languished in stuffiness,
Once, someone with someone ..
Squeezing the rifles wanted to give the world the beginning already given,
Now suppressed by the remnants, like the last tango ...
Dust is velvet,
Which you will never feel ...
Rain is dust
Learning heavenly quiet ...
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