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    "8th"
      название:

      Dlz (tv on the radio cover)


      автор:

      8th


      жанры: grunge, acoustic, russian, singer-songwriter, guitar
      рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.2 / 1210 просмотров
      Congratulations on the mess you made of things
       I'm trying to [bad word] the air and all that brings
       And oxidation is [bad word] you own
       But this is beginning to feel like the dog wants a bone, say
      
      La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
      
      You force your fire and then you falsify your deeds
       Your methods dot the disconnect from all your creeds
       And fortune strives to fill the vacuum that it feeds
       But this is beginning to feel like the dog's lost her lead, say
      
      La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
       La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
      
      This is beginning to feel
       Like the long winded blues of the never
       This is beginning to feel
       Like it's curling up slowly and finding a throat to choke
      
      This is beginning to feel
       Like the long winded blues of the never
       Barely controlled [bad word] consuming the picture
       And blowing the crows, the smoke
      
      This is beginning to feel
       Like the long winded blues of the never
       Static explosion devoted to [bad word] the broken
       And shoving their souls to ghost
      
      Eternalised, objectified
       You set your sights so high
       But this is beginning to feel
       Like the bolt busted loose from the lever
      
      Never mind, death professor
       Your [bad word] #39;s fine, my dust is better
       Your victim flies so high
       All to catch a bird's eye view of who's next
      
      Never you mind, death professor
       Love is life, my love is better
       Your victim flies so high
       Eyes could be the diamonds confused with who's next
      
      Never you mind, death professor
       Your shocks are fine, my [bad word] are better
       Your fiction flies so high
       Y'all could use a doctor who's sick, who's next?
      
      Never you mind, death professor
       Electrified, my love is better
       It's crystallized, so am I
       All could be the diamond fused with who's next
      
      This is beginning to feel
       Like the dawn of the loser forever
       This is beginning to feel
       Like the dawn of the loser forever
      
      This is beginning to feel
       Like the dawn of the loser forever
       This is beginning to feel
       Like the dawn of the loser forever

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      Это интересно: Меня зовут "8th". Многие предпочитают: "восьмой". Чаще всего я слышу вопросы: "Почему Восьмой?" и "Почему ты поёшь на английском?". Наиболее адекватные ответы звучали бы примерно так : " Восемь - потому, что кругов ада 9, а небес 7" и "В моём случае английский звучит гораздо благороднее". Не важно где я родился, где я вырос и где я умру. Не важно... подробнее
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