Those red stains are back Crumpled rags all over the flat Soaked sorrow from the sky As grey as ever
Returning for a beer They used to heat up the place Head of Kafka the boilerman And Janouch the informer
Hordes before you Small dandelion parachutes A nation of gaffers You've just woken up
It's all wrong, black stones Shove around you Clay up to your chest
A butterfly flies away with your glasses A friend with a wet lap Has returned through a dark passage Crying or missing the spot Calling the loved one
His eyes overgrown with beard His elbow grown into a beggar As poor as a castle lord Standing on the rampart before the fallTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
