Афонина Татьяна фотограф Москва
497 3 часа назад

Текст песни Buck 65 - Riverbed 3

Buck 65 - Riverbed 3 слова песни

There`s people living in the neighboring bargesGuilty of assorted compliments and chargesLike the one eyed cyclist who never wears socksHe covers his mouth with his hand when he talksHis name is Rene, they say he is a communistThere is something about his demeanor that`s ominousGord with his card tricks escaped from the rowHis mouth is always in the shape of an OHis brother is locked up and he awaits his releaseHe talks about politics and hates the policeLinda doesn`t have long to live probablyShe`s wiccan and used to read palms for a hobbyShe came to visit one night and just sat thereAnd laughed the whole time, her clothes covered in cat hairAubrey wears two watches at once and a bow tieHe is missing a thumb and nobody knows whyHe`s not the best ventriloquist in the world, but he wants to beHe`s an excellent dancer and smokes reefer constantlyBig, fat Nigel works as a floristHe`s openly gay and looks like a touristHe`s very polite with a good sense of humorHe`s heir to a fortune or at least that`s the rumorWashed up and wounded, we are the recycledEarthy, thirsty, sleazy and seaworthyAt the foot of the trees the tramps drink and they day dreamThey use the fountain to stay clean, they`re not as bad as they may seemEach day they reenact the ritual of abandonThey sit there and serenade people at randomAs the thought of a job and a bedroom refrigeratesThey drift on alcoholic wings in figure-eightsWine and water, regarded as stupid weirdosMore wine and water, they feel like superheroesOne once was a boxer whose ego remains bandagedHe once took a beating that left him with brain damageOne plays a horn and was born with a wooden legHe plays on some days cause he feels that he shouldn`t begOne worked in the factory before it closed downHe`s fine if there`s plenty of wine to go aroundSunken and drunken, frustrated and lonelyThese people don`t die, they evaporate slowlyNo matter how desperate, no matter how lawlessThey rely on the river for some kind of solaceIt sings to the softly and lulls them to sleep heavilyIt`s soothing and every bit heavenlyEach morning before they get into the booze, as they sayThey usually give me the news of the dayAnd if it were up to them to shout the decisionAn aurora borealis and all men out of prison

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