Перевод: Кочевники. (Я хочу дать вам) Devotion.
Перевод: Кочевники. Мобильный кенгуру.
encore d'ici Les Nomades Ils ont habite la roulotte Les quatre planches qui cahotent De Saint-Ouen aux Saintes-Maries Mais ils s'en vont encore d'ici Les Nomades
vont encore d'ici Les Nomades Ils ont habite la roulotte Les quatre planches qui cahotent De Saint-Ouen aux Saintes-Maries Mais ils s'en vont encore d'ici Les Nomades
seems we're nomads in the night Your cold turns me into the heartless Until the sunrise burning light Oh moon, I follow you in darkness It seems we're nomads
Hалейте на прощанье чашу мне, Я не оставлю ни глотка на дне, Далекою дорогой, по которой нет возврата, Я отправляюсь на лихом коне. Пусть черный волк
Вот снова вечер в мой дом прокрался Am Я зажигаю остаток свечи Dm F E7 Am Где же ты, Странник, куда подевался G7 C G7 C Завтра дорогу как хочешь ищи
Life it's not just who it's what to be Just like the friends to me They always seem to put you down So listen not to them And like your neighbor who's
Long ago, a crumbling whole of me was split in two. Spat forth into darkness and light, like the Birth from the womb. I live like this in stillborn life
Drinking a Familiar ale As I listen to a tale Of a friendship that was won and lost A long time ago Well I always got to roam, nowhere to call
Forget everything I've said before I don't feel that way today Forget everything I've felt before I felt it come yesterday I'm comfortable feeling miserable
In the stillness of the night My eyes are closed My mouth is wide And I couldn't see her face Her beautiful hair And I couldn't recognize She looks at
Get up We've got the method of groove that grabbed your attention Now that you're aware we're gonna give you the message My, my father taught, my father
A little older, little wiser With every breath I learn just a little more And with all I've seen I've finally made up my mind Enough of, of this world
From day one I could not comprehend Was it us, was it me or was it them? Friends will come and go as it seems And now I have no shoulder on which to
It disturbs me to see you that you're growing old Concerns me to be the one you want to hold Too busy running on fuel, thank God, you made it through
Clearing webs from the hovel A blistered hand on the handle of a shovel I've been diggin' too deep, I always do I see my face on the surface, I look a
keeper of the mystery in your hands Nomad, rider of the ancient east Nomad, rider that men know the least Nomad, where you come from no one knows Nomad