The Drunken Postman from the World of Praying Mantises He brings me letters and destroys my silence Which doesn't exist anyway Because there's my child and atomic dreams And thoughts, jet-powered fighters of the mind Their roar is a sign for me And so what if the floors are waxed Or the maid winds the clock every morning She'll clean yesterday's glass Who knows when the Chest will open by itself With an unknown voice from known expanses To say that It has happened What should I do then on the wooden porch With a furrow of worry in my tie and over a cup With ruthless determination at the bottom How to save a child with sore tonsils I can't step into destruction without a fight Take me, not him But nobody wants to take it even though the seventh trumpet of sound Wakes me up constantly and the desire for redemption Rises in my throat The lover of my wife sneers with sour breath So maybe I'll redeem their sin with my sin The maid who washes glass shines You can quickly delve into her stranger From the deepest secrets when hands are already begging On behalf of tense thighs The crucifix will testify, the table, the stove, the accordion That what I held in my mouth and hands Was a plea for a miracle So the family doctor lawyer and wife Will testify that I dream, that the game is over That divorce and departure from here They love each other and want to go somewhere to Australia So you understand I have to set fire This house for them to understand the mistake Flames from cupboards, carpets, and chairs A mushroom of smoke will rise to the empty sky That's all I can give For them to endure, to take care of the child So they can still safely take some time From life worth taking Oh, there was crying and screaming and the creaking of boards in the heat Then white doctors chased after me For fear, for warning, for pain Let the house burn before the world burns out I shouted as they tied my hands skillfully Breaking free from roles We planted a small twig on the shore Today that twig must be a crooked tree But a tree For people it's fear Because only what shines straight into our eyes is light A man who sheds his own blood Plus Leonardo and Bach this song is abaut last film of andriej tarnowski in polish ,,ofiarowanie" ruclips.net/video/ZzVkwyJIL88/видео.html
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I really hope to soon understand the words being sung so handsomely
I may translate the lyrics if you want
Want some answers?
The Drunken Postman from the World of Praying Mantises
He brings me letters and destroys my silence
Which doesn't exist anyway
Because there's my child and atomic dreams
And thoughts, jet-powered fighters of the mind
Their roar is a sign for me
And so what if the floors are waxed
Or the maid winds the clock every morning
She'll clean yesterday's glass
Who knows when the Chest will open by itself
With an unknown voice from known expanses
To say that It has happened
What should I do then on the wooden porch
With a furrow of worry in my tie and over a cup
With ruthless determination at the bottom
How to save a child with sore tonsils
I can't step into destruction without a fight
Take me, not him
But nobody wants to take it even though the seventh trumpet of sound
Wakes me up constantly and the desire for redemption
Rises in my throat
The lover of my wife sneers with sour breath
So maybe I'll redeem their sin with my sin
The maid who washes glass shines
You can quickly delve into her stranger
From the deepest secrets when hands are already begging
On behalf of tense thighs
The crucifix will testify, the table, the stove, the accordion
That what I held in my mouth and hands
Was a plea for a miracle
So the family doctor lawyer and wife
Will testify that I dream, that the game is over
That divorce and departure from here
They love each other and want to go somewhere to Australia
So you understand I have to set fire
This house for them to understand the mistake
Flames from cupboards, carpets, and chairs
A mushroom of smoke will rise to the empty sky
That's all I can give
For them to endure, to take care of the child
So they can still safely take some time
From life worth taking
Oh, there was crying and screaming and the creaking of boards in the heat
Then white doctors chased after me
For fear, for warning, for pain
Let the house burn before the world burns out
I shouted as they tied my hands skillfully
Breaking free from roles
We planted a small twig on the shore
Today that twig must be a crooked tree
But a tree For people it's fear
Because only what shines straight into our eyes is light
A man who sheds his own blood
Plus Leonardo and Bach
this song is abaut last film of andriej tarnowski in polish ,,ofiarowanie"
ruclips.net/video/ZzVkwyJIL88/видео.html