Текст песни Alphaville - Script of a Dead Poet, слова песни Alphaville

Текст песни Alphaville - Script of a Dead Poet

Alphaville - Script of a Dead Poet слова песни

The coffee black and nearly coldAnd I look back while hours pass byA sheet of paper on the table torn to shredsIf you are able to solve the puzzle, tryIts my last script that you may holdOr wipe away when the bar has closedMy last remains here in your hands and in the endWhat I was writing for, I just dont knowDont knowHow many times to make youy understandOr was it for the triumph of applauding handsHow many words I had to spell and all the stories I would tellFor the short and orgiastic turn whend you say: wellWhat were they for, these black inked dreamsA guaranty that I was wiseAnd so called gods define an entrance for eternal lifeInto a masterpeace of mineAll I wanted to beWas extraordinary, extraordinaryAnd maybe I was wrongHow many people have I killedWith my suicidal songsJaney diamond/1993

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Alphaville

Script of a Dead Poet

Текст песни Alphaville - Script of a Dead Poet

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