413 3 часа назад

Текст песни church - The Disillusionist

church - The Disillusionist слова песни




In autumn he comes to this townWhen the peoples guard is downOn a day like todayOvercast and grayBells were all ringingThe birds stopped their singingThe wind caught in the treesScreaming to be freeHe alights from the platformIn his usual uniformHis skin looks like he slept in itOr had something rotten kept in itAnd snakes stir in the thistlesBack of cats neck bristles`Round vicious lips the fur is stainedThe disillusionist is back againThey say that he`s famous from the waist downBut the top half of his body is a corpseHis gold won`t buy him sleepHis poverty runs so deepIn winter he cracks, in summer he warpsHang around the backstage doorBut he knows what you`re waiting forYou rub yourself against his fameAlready ready to bear the blameHe asks you "Did you like my show?"As if he really wants to knowThen doesn`t wait for your replyHe just pulls you back insideYou`ve started feeling dizzyIt isn`t you or is hePersuade you mentallyUndress you incidentallyDown the swaying corridorPeople you feel sorry forBut when he puts the gaze on youYou`re amazed at what you`ll let him doHe can turn wine into waterMother against daughterJuggles busy deadlinesGets himself off headlinesSurrounded by his minionsWho never have opinionsPerforming little tricks for youPuts it in a fix for youSmashes your watch with a hammerCaresses you with cameraAnd says the magic wordsThat nobody`s ever heardNow the slur is fadingReality all-pervadingIt only makes you want him moreIt only makes you fawn him moreAnd he does the Indian rope trickThe one that makes you seasickAnd he keeps on filling up your cupBut you keep on filling upAnd some of it`s done with mirrorsAnd some of it`s done with scissorsAnd some of it`s done with cablesAnd his hands under the tableIt doesn`t matter you want to believeIt doesn`t matter if you have to leaveYou won`t escape his orbitAnd the things that you must forfeitAnd the audience seems familiarSome of them in particularBet you they are his plantsWhen he plays the game of chanceHe reads the minds of jilted girlsAnd the story really unfurlsCast a fortune for the man in the suitWho`s suffering is very acuteThere`s a rabbit in his hatBut I thought I smelled a rat

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