Превод: Графити. У чему је проблем?.
Превод: Паул мик. Графити Љубав.
Превод: Мнемиц. Нула Графити.
Tired old man you're a wastin' slowly battling grey and blue, Built your empire as a shell so nobody prays on you, Remember when you were fresh and bitter
My driftin' memory goes back to the spring of '43 When I was just a child in momma's arms My daddy plowed the ground and prayed someday he could leave
Whispers of ancients buried by dust, Echoes of ages in canyons of rust, Is heaven so lonely? I'll know soon enough Cold as the clay, dark as a mine,
Went out last night to take a little round, I met a little Sadie and I blowed her down, Bummed a ride home, got in to bed, 44 smokeless under my head
Oh the lilies were laid on the marble in the field where the ancestors lay, And the forest was dark and primeval but the boughs seemed to cradle as they
Down in the holler there's a thriving town A treasure trove that makes the world go 'round, When the city barons bring their legal papers and guns, Oh
Talk about suffering here below And let's keep a-loving Jesus. Talk about suffering here below And let's keep a-following Jesus. Oh, can't you hear it
Oh, yonder stands the prophet, words are music to our ears, But down among the sinners, only pain and sweat and tears The sermon soothes the simple but
Come listen to my story, I'll tell you no lies, how John Lewis did murder a little Omie Wise, He asked her to meet him at Adams's spring, said he'd bring
Der Graf, ist nicht das, was er mal war Ja der Graf, wirkt heut seltsam und bizarr Ja der Graf, lebt von Blutkonserven, Ratten und Getier Ja der Graf,
( Jackson - Banton )
(Hammill) It's easy to say, when you're so down, that everything's pointless; your eyes burn, your ears howl, your limbs are disjointed. Barren fields
( Hammill ) "Unreal, unreal" ghost helmsmen scream and fall in through the sky, Not breaking, through my seagull shrieks: no breaks until I die. The
( Hammill ) '"Alone, alone" the ghosts all call, pinpoint me in the light; the only life I feel at all is the presence of the night. Would you cry if
( Banton - Jackson )
