Дамы в колье, кавалеры во фраках, Свечи горят и начищен паркет, Теже духи и помада, и лаки, Теже слова, что и в прошлый банкет. Ах, музыканты, нельзя
A heart of stone, a smoking gun I can give you life, I can take it away A heart of stone, a smoking gun I'm working it out Why'd you feel so underrated
Ev'rywhere I hear the sound Of marching charging feet, boy 'Cause summer's here and the time is right For fighting in the street, boy Well, what can
Please allow me to introduce myself I'm a man of wealth and taste I've been around for a long, long year Stole many a man's soul and fate I was 'round
One must be remiss when their prospects of bliss Will abandon all reason to blend with decay A banquet of fools in the lunatic season The cards that I
A heart of stone, a smoking gun I can give you life, I can take it away A heart of stone, a smoking gun I'm working it out, I'm working Feel so underrated
Oldfield I don't want your Apollo of frozen steel I don't want your lies you teach my children to feel So keep off my lovers moon or he'll blind thee
Should I never roam anymore, I'm on journey, silently the moon whispers Words I'll be recalling Miles away lies the unknown fate Through dwarven lands
Loreena McKennitt Recorded at Annaghmakerrig, Ireland Loreena McKennitt: troubador and celtic harps, tambourine, finger cymbals
Vortex of burning leaves dancing around the tables A faceless man behind a goat-shaped mask, Reading ancient fables Stories from millenniums past, stories
Come to the dinner gong the table is laden high Fat bellies and hungry little ones Tuck your napkins in and take your share Some get the gravy and some
His invitation was clear I shut my eyes and now I'm here Please make way,our host is making his entree
Sire, Maesta Riverenti come sempre siam tutti qua Sire, siamo noi Il poeta, l'assassino e sua santita Tutti, fedeli amici tuoi. Prego, amici miei, lo
Oh help me, please doctor, I'm damaged There's a pain where there once was a heart It's sleepin, it's a beatin' Can't ya please tear it out, and preserve
Waitin' for a girl she's got curlers in her hair Waitin' for a girl we have no money anywhere She gets buses everywhere Waitin' for a factory girl Waitin
There's a tramp sittin' on my doorstep Tryin' to waste his time With his methylated sandwich He's a walking clothesline And here comes the Bishop's daughter
Take me to the station And put me on a train I've got no expectations To pass through here again Once I was a rich man And now I am so poor But never
