Grim faced and forbidding Their faces closed tight An angular mass of New Yorkers Pacing in rhythm Race the oncoming night They chase through the streets
Unstable condition, a symptom of life In mental and environmental change Atmospheric disturbance, the feverish flux Of human interface and interchange
Перевод: Спешка. Том Сойер Moving Pictures.
Перевод: Спешка. Limelight Moving Pictures.
Перевод: Спешка. Красный Barchetta Moving Pictures.
: A modern-day warrior Mean mean stride, Today's Tom Sawyer Mean mean pride. Though his mind is not for rent, Don't put him down as arrogant.
: My uncle has a country place That no one knows about. He says it used to be a farm, Before the Motor Law. And on Sundays I elude the Eyes, And
: Living on a lighted stage Approaches the unreal For those who think and feel In touch with some reality Beyond the gilded cage. Cast in this
lonely torchlit hill. Features distorted in the flickering light, The faces are twisted and grotesque. Silent and stern in the sweltering night, The mob moves
: Unstable condition, A symptom of life, In mental and environmental change. Atmospheric disturbance, The feverish flux Of human interface and interchange
: I. Grim-faced and forbidding, Their faces closed tight, An angular mass of New Yorkers Pacing in rhythm, Race the oncoming night, They chase
: (Instrumental)
Living on a lighted stage Approaches the unreal For those who think and feel In touch with some reality Beyond the gilded cage. Cast in this unlikely
My uncle has a country place That no one knows about. He says it used to be a farm, Before the Motor Law. And on Sundays I elude the Eyes, And hop
I. Grim-faced and forbidding, Their faces closed tight, An angular mass of New Yorkers Pacing in rhythm, Race the oncoming night, They chase through
A modern-day warrior Mean mean stride, Today's Tom Sawyer Mean mean pride. Though his mind is not for rent, Don't put him down as arrogant. His
Unstable condition, A symptom of life, In mental and environmental change. Atmospheric disturbance, The feverish flux Of human interface and interchange
The lonely torchlit hill. Features distorted in the flickering light, The faces are twisted and grotesque. Silent and stern in the sweltering night, The mob moves
