тепло наших тел - убежище от шторма
текст песни

Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood,
when blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud.
I came in from the wilderness a creature void of form
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I’ll always do my best for her, on that I give my word.
In a world of steel-eyed death and men who are fighting to be warm
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved.
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm.
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail.
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn,
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Suddenly I turned around and she was standing there
with silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns,
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Now there’s a wall between us, something there’s been lost.
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn,
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Well the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount.
But nothing really matters much, it’s doom alone that counts.
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn,
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

I’ve heard newborn babies wailing like a mourning dove
and old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

In a little hilltop village they gambled for my clothes.
I bargained for salvation and they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

Well, I’m living in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line.
Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born,
“Come in” she said, “I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”