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Текст песни amorphis - My Cantele

amorphis - My Cantele слова песни




Truly they lie, they talk utter noncenseWho say that music reckon that one kanteleWas fashioned by a godOut of a great pike`s shoulders>From a water-dogs`s hooked bones:It was made from the griefMoulded from sorrowIts belly out of hard daysIts soundboard from endless woesIts strings gathered from tormentsAnd its pegs from other illsSo it will not play, will not rejoice at allMusic will not play to pleaseGive off the right sort of joyFor it was fashioned from caresMoulded from sorrow

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