Birds In Row все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

It looks like a dream where someone used my body without permission. The reallier it looks, the deeper i understand. Help me ! 'cause i feel like i'm alone in a giant black hole. Help me! Regrets are stuck to my bones. I thought the world could have saved from my unending loneliness. But I still stand alone, in the same stincky place. And I am noone. And I have noone. And now i feel like the ace of fools.

Fill up the masses and leave us alone. Among these ashes there ain't no place to grow. We're called the lone kids of our broken throats. Tired of yelling, we've got no place to fall. And i admit i am nothing but the opposite of your decisions. Building myself on the anti-pattern of the golden wounds. Among these ashes, turned up by crows, we are staring at the surface, hoping for welcoming hands to cut through this dark sea. But carry your burdens, no arms will get open if you're not a new martyr.

Unbearable vision of failure of the desperate sailors abandoned by the fortune of oil. Believe me, don't wait for a saviour. Here's your sheet-steel coffin, may you appreciate. Believe me, do not look for an answer. There are still shits coming before you pass away. And i can't bear this snow. And i can't bear this room. And i wish my feet would have never known the dark streets of Cottbus. End. Maybe we could dance and smile and figure out we're still alive, as if we're not leaving our dreams along this late highway. Maybe we could wait for some better skies to come and shine Over the tragedy we leave along white barricades. This was where we lived. This is where it ends. Common failure, common sailors. Abandonned by the fortune of oil.

I wanna dance til the dawn of a new day, just like a rat on the cradle of a new city. And get the appetite of a bulimic bear facing the promise of a close famine. Broken wooden horses for ride and a million of chances to take. My tangible fears sleeping on my knees til this journey does end. Too tired of making war. Too realistic for peace. A “never again, never again!” to the beasts leading me to my defeat. Some of you would say I’m a coward, sneaking away from down-to-earth matters. Rum coward run. Don’t tell me what to do. Run faster run. If only I could break down the system..

We could have saved them one by one. All the lovers left all alone. We could have killed them one by one. For putting beauty into vain words. Something is missing, when no more candles could light the dark. When no more roses could add some colors. When everything around smells like someone, who disappeared into your mirror. We are the saviours of our dignity. We are the leftovers of crucified generations. Made out of murders and of abuses. Digging the gap no churches we are the sense of all no name rebellions. We are the quitter and the rejected. We are the betrayal to a two thousand year old question...

Да здравствует рабство!
Как и миллионы из нас, я пытался найти выход.
Но мне все еще приходится оправдывать гнев, что не дает мне спать по ночам.
Те, кто может наслаждаться тишиной, даже не подозревают о своей свободе.
Мы скованы цепями арендной платы и рамками моды.
Я пытаюсь убедить себя, что в этом мире не так уж много дерьма,
Но все, что я чувствую – это лишь то, что ни в чем в этом мире я не могу быть уверен.
Я боюсь лишь сомнений, что начинают терзать меня по утрам, но если я и отступлю, то только затем, чтобы избежать депрессии. –

I've never thought my choices would have consequences
Loaded with so much regrets day after day.
Listen, this is a lesson kid.
Chose the path you'll walk,
And never follow the lights of a herd you undergo,
'Cause you heart means more than your status.
And there'll always be people to not understand,
So let them go away.

Rewriting the definitions
Of what went wrong and what should have been
Countless, useless, miserable and scared
And a pair of bottles in our hands to dig our own graves

But the flowers they won't bloom over the boxes we'll live in
Spring's gone
Where is the cash?

Passive complainers are travelers with no memories.
They put down their bags and show us their sore feet.
But the question is:
Would a hot bath make them shut their mouths?

They've got time to complain but no seconds to change.
Living criticism never lighting the weight
Of this heavy sky which will end breaking our fragile necks

Passive complainers are travellers with no memories. They put down their bags and show us their sore feet. But the question is: would a hot bath make them shut their mouths ? They've got time to complain but no seconds to change. Living criticism never lighting the weight of this heavy sky which will end breaking our fragile necks. It's time to light the sky, but tonight everyone's complaining. Subversively crying with their hands in their pockets. I saw smiles between their undending grimaces and it may betray any kind of inner pleasure. I don't listen to you if your only solution's to get high on pills on every disillusion. I don't understand you if your choice is to wait for that train to come straight to your face. There's one world where one word could have made things live and move from the most static state. Engrave it on your cold desperate heart, and start looking for a change. Nevermind the way you find to wake up, it should always be fine. I'll scream you the word of astaroth, I'm searching for the light. Aemaeth.

Is there a limit to trust or do we all walk blinded?
When the grounds end,
will we stop or will we keep running?

I guess were good at believing,
with hands on our eyes,
hands on our ears
and guns in our mouth

A provocation to loneliness, when all the best ends up into a grand march that doesn't fit you. Insisting looks and cheap perfumes on trampled sidewalks are aggressions that I won’t answer to. I try, I swear, I doubt, I fail, I tried, I tried, I tried. Just another witness ain't seen it coming. I was sitting there and yes I could still watch silhouettes dancing, with some kind of interest. I ain't seen it coming, month by month experimenting the distress of not seeing sense in the cadence of bodies. I'm sitting back in a place and watching the world declining, slowly as a granpa. All wrinkles drawn with millions of shoes used on the side of complacency. It's simply not for me. I tried to give it all sense. I tried to love perfume again. I tried to give it all meaning. I tried to remember. In the morning of my world, all loved has ceased. And in the end it is only you, me and the violence, with no kinda limitation. Before the death of all hearts, when all love will cease, the hope is saving. Give me a way to see clear into this foggy sea. Slowly we walk to the end of our dreams.