TOP песен исполнителя
"The The"
"The The"
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TOP альбомов исполнителя
"The The"
"The The"
название:
автор:
жанры: 80s, alternative, rock
альбомы: Soul Mining, 45 RPM - The Singles Of The The
Perfect
автор:
The The
жанры: 80s, alternative, rock
альбомы: Soul Mining, 45 RPM - The Singles Of The The
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 4.6 / 640 просмотров
- Текст
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It's a chilly english winter And solitude is never easy to maintain Except when it rains So I hang an empty smile beneath my empty eyes And go out for a walk The wet morning sun reflects off the paving-stones While a little dog barks it's head off In the distanceOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationPeople turn around with unseeing eyes They're looking for something that doesn't exist The world you once knew is being eaten up by rust No-one has time for the past, but still, in God they trust The future is now, but it's all going wrong Bodies good for nothing, but it's to nothing they belong People say prayers and some work hard If you give them all your money, they'll give you their hearts This town ain't getting like a ghost town It's getting like hellOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnationOh, what a perfect day To think about my silly world My feet are firmly screwed to the floor What is there to fear from such a regular world? Passing by a cemetery I think of all the little hopes and dreams That lie lifeless and unfilled beneath the soil I see an old man fingering his perishing flesh He tells himself he was a good man and did good things Amused and confused by life's little ironies He swallows his bottle of distilled damnation
Это интересно:Группа "The The" представляет собой по сути ни что иное, как сольный проект автора песен и исполнителя Мэтта Джонсона, чья музыка варьируется от дэнс-попа до кантри. Мэтт родился в лондонском Ист-Энде 15 августа 1961 года. Еще в юном возрасте Джонсон частенько зависал в ночных клубах (которые принадлежали его дядьке) и именно там он познакомился с настоящей музыкой, наблюдая за выступлениями... продолжение
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