Îäíàæäû íà èãðîâîé ïëîùàäêå, â äîæäü.
Hello old lovers of mine, my little boy wishes of fortune's kisses
Ïðèâåò ìîèì áûâøèì âîçëþáëåííûì, ìîé ìàëåíüêèé ìàëü÷èê æåëàåò ïîöåëóåâ íà ñ÷àñòüå
Now dreams cast aside
Òåïåðü ìå÷òû îòáðîøåíû
In the fading light your crown of thorns becomes a halo of branching horns
 óãàñàþùåì ñâåòå âàøà êîðîíà èç øèïîâ ïðåâðàùàåòñÿ â íèìá ðàçâåòâëÿþùèõñÿ ðîãîâ
And yet so beautiful
È âñ¸ - òàêè òàê êðàñèâû
I see you gently swaying in a sea of seesaws
ß âèæó òåáÿ â ìàðåâå êîëåáëþùåãîñÿ ìîðÿ
Slumming in the shack Tony built last year
 õèæèíå òðóùîá, êîòîðóþ Òîíè ïîñòðîèë â ïðîøëîì ãîäó
I know you'll be holding court with jackdaws
ß çíàþ, ÷òî òû áóäåøü â ñóäå ñ ìèëîðäàìè
Crying when nobody ever sees your tears
Ïëà÷, êîãäà íèêòî íå âèäèò òâîèõ ñë¸ç
When no-one sees your tears
Êîãäà íèêòî íå óâèäèò òâîèõ ñë¸ç
What used to fly us from here to the stratosphere
×òî ìû èñïîëüçîâàëè, ÷òîáû óëåòàòü â ñòðàòîñôåðó ?
What became of our passion
×òî ñòàëî ñ íàøåé ñòðàñòüþ ?
Is there no-one who cares
Íèêîãî ýòî íå âîëíóåò
Hear the soft minor key of the one time me
Óñëûøü îäíàæäû îò ìåíÿ ìÿãêóþ ìèíîðíóþ òîíàëüíîñòü
Still the acrobat with my heart on my sleeve
Âñ¸ åù¸ àêðîáàò, ñ êîçûðåì â âèäå ñâîåãî ñåðäöà
And it's so beautiful
È ýòî òàê êðàñèâî
I see you gently swaying in a sea of seesaws...
ß âèæó òåáÿ â ìàðåâå êîëåáëþùåãîñÿ ìîðÿ...
Out back where the gates are closed
Íàçàä, ãäå âîðîòà çàêðûòû
Like a pitiful skeleton pose
Êàê íåñ÷àñòíàÿ ïîçà ñêåëåòà
We held our first line of defence
Ìû óäåðæèâàëè ïåðâóþ ëèíèþ çàùèòû
Saw our likeness and it made no sense
Óâèäåë íàøó ñõîæåñòü è ýòî ñòàëî áåññìûñëåííûì
Like toy soldiers in the muck and dirt
Êàê èãðóøå÷íûå ñîëäàòèêè, â ìåðçîñòÿõ è ïîäëîñòÿõ
Salvation in your every word
Ñïàñåíèå â êàæäîì òâî¸ì ñëîâå
Lost in the fray of everyday
Ïîòåðÿíî â ñóåòå ïîâñåäíåâíîé æèçíè
I see you gently swaying in a sea of seesaws...
ß âèæó òåáÿ â ìàðåâå êîëåáëþùåãîñÿ ìîðÿ...
You're still fighting, I see, like a modern day Bruce Lee
Òû âñ¸ åù¸ ñðàæàåøüñÿ, êàê ñîâðåìåííûé Áðþñ Ëè, ÿ âèæó
Standing proud in this parody
Ãîðäàÿ ýòîé ïàðîäèåé
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ïåðåâîä Google è ìîé / îðèãèíàëüíûé òåêñò ãðóïïû '' Poets of the Fall ''.
( ÷òî-òî ìåíÿ ýòî ... Ñïàñèáî àâòîðó, òî áèøü, Dorifor, òû - ÷óäî. )