Augie March все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

A Tuesday night in Winter, holed up in the city of ravens,
The owls in the hills hoo-hooing
and eyeing off the field mice down in the cold grey centre,
Addle Brains lining up with the dead for the soup spoon,
Addle Brains and the legions of the passed for the bread bag,
Ladle the soup, pass the rolls,
Addle Brains and the many not here and loose souls.

Over the airwaves tonight,

Sailing by a love lonely light,

Isn't it blue, but isn't it brighter

Than the pilot of a domestic flight

Shining city on the plain
no more sorrow no more pain
City of rescue I don't know
is that where all good people go?
If that's where all good people go
leave me here I tell you no
all good people in one place?
nary there an honest face

Should you expect to see something that you hadn't seen

In somebody you'd known since you were sixteen;

if love is a bolt from the blue, then what is that bolt but a glorified screw?

and that doesn't hold nothing together

Honey goes candy in the condiment cupboard,
Unwax it. unplug it,
What you discover in August nights,
Like children walled in and papers drawn up for life -
That kind of truth you can't crack with a knife.
Smoke from the wood fire, unholy spires,
And can you surmise from which well you have drawn you courage, it stings your eyes
What you saw when she stood in the yard and she let him undress her -

This is a song, not like the other ones
secret and selfish and somewhat hollow.
In the middle of this song there seemed to grow another
Of indeterminate length and origin.
To populate a people's song, first you must do something wrong,
if you've never been infirm you can never be strong.

Prune your rose bushes Djamila,

We will adjust to this new condition of living like a man with his entrails now out him not in
After certain techniques of torture accustoms himself to a new condition of living...train.
Thoughtful godless men find god in them at the age of twenty-five
but in a year death gains favor and they think themselves the more alive,
You'll find them in the loose caboose where the pills are kept and the stupid juice,
This one has a sleeping wheel, this one has a willing noose
- Onward and on to the ends of love, pricked vanity, habit and ruse.
Onward and on to a premature silence where death finds too much use.