I'm long gone from vertical, Somewhere south is stopping me I'm long gone from the american dream, You may decide it's something new I'm long gone but
I can read, I can writeI can breathe, proven factBless my greed, greased unfold (That's my greed, it's twofold) Is it me, or my ego (Isn't me)Write some
I'm not gonna make you croon Something else, something new I'm not gonna make you dream Suicide is something mean I'm not gonna make you gruel It's something
I'm not gonna make it through Something else is something new I'm not gonna make it dream Suicide is something mean I'm not gonna make it through It's
I can read, I can write I can breathe, proven fact Bless my greed, greased unfold Is it me, or my ego Write some words, make them rhyme Pieces for, story
From the eastern mountains, pressing on, they come, Wise men in their wisdom, to His humble home; Stirred by deep devotion, hasting from afar, Ever journeying
No Crowded eastern street, No sound of passing feet; Far to the left and far to right, The prairie snows spread far and white; Yet still to us is born
Перевод: Во-первых, Али. Восточная песня.
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Перевод: Нирвана. Token Восточная песня (1989 Demo Version).
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: I'm not gonna make it through Something else is something new I'm not gonna make it dream Suicide is something mean I'm not gonna make it through It