Тексты песен «Rasputina»

One girl's name is Jean Marie, Another little girl's called Felicity. One little girl's name is Sally Joy, My name is Phil and I'm a boy. My name is Vincent, I'm a head case. They're always making up on my face. I'd be...

Every time that I hear a woman cry ''cause her man has left her flat I just feel like saying, "don't be such a fool, you fool." Better dry your eyes, can't you realize You gain nothing by that Well, that's no way to...

Smoke rises from the ice factory on the edge, on the edge of a city that exist in perpetual gloom. I snatch a note from the basket of a passing bicycle - "Go to the flour factory. There's something waiting there for...

If you think real hard about The aches, the card, the blackboard That you've drawn on for so long You realize that it's gone And with it that swan song The mirror of your life has turned to shards If that means broken...

The summer I Simmered simple in the sand So tongue-tied Mum and dumb The comb, it just Found itself in my hand I stood when I Should have run Conspiracy Those fellows and me The comb, the way it's going...

All dressed in white Come before you, come before you Confused, confused You study hard and go west You'll go far, little girl Now try hard and be the best The best in all the world You can create a demand For this...

The fly Of may It lives One day When that day is done The mayfly does not complain It flies into the setting sun It goes back to the place From which it came The fly Of may Ask how Ask why

Momma was an opium smoker She light it with a red-hot poker She would never take a bath We would ask her, she'd just laugh Because our momma was an opium smoker She made it with this gentleman, Lincoln They met on a...

I keep pictures of him in my mind yeah you know the kind they curl up on the edges, the corners are bended into a trickpulled from behind. Physically he is serene he looks good he looks clean yeah I know he's dead but I...

Oh, Mr. Romberg I have taken 14 of your classes I'm the girl with greasy hair and glasses Mr. Romerg, If you're listening If you can hear me Give me a sign that we can be together Oh my god, oh nevermind I carved your...

Oh, Mr. Romberg I have taken 14 of your classes I'm the girl with greasy hair and glasses Mr. Romerg, If you're listening If you can hear me Give me a sign that we can be together Oh my god, oh nevermind I carved your...

This is "The Story of My Captivity by Savages," or "How I Learned to Fight" by Eliza Elizabeth Cook, age 13 Writ in my own hand on this, the 23rd day of August, 1829. "Fine Day for a...

This is the story of My Captivity By Savages, or, How I Learned To Fight. By Eliza Elizabeth Cooke, age thirteen, written in my own hand on this, the 23rd day of August, 1829. Chapter one: Fine Day For a Flaying or, The...

Once it started The frail and fainthearted Just withered to the floor Oh, so sadly We examined hands burned badly By that which no man fears more. The terrible flames of All that remain of My Little Shirtwaist Fire My...

I have been held in this orphanage for longer than my years. I am made to eat this horrid porridge. They box me on the ears. How often I vow to flee, to go. But this is the only home I know. My stammered speech, my one...

This letter you get it, You burn it, Forget it It's not what I meant to say You might think me a scapegrace Really a fugitive in decay I exist here on an acre of nature In the diminutive But I'll be thinking of you, I...

I am the mother, don't ever say that You don't ever want to say what you said again November 17dee, never ever take my ingredients from all of you, from all the city Say November, November is an avolian All aboard, but...

I am the mother. Don't ever say that. You don't ever want to say what you said again. November 17dee. Never, ever take my ingredients. From all of you. From all the city. Say November. November is an avolian. All...

Nozzle, nodule, eraser, chip A few thoughts on the subject By a little nothing What was so obviously strange? Yet mystifyingly true about the whole situation Was Miss Connie Pollyp's failure to grasp That the time was...

Oh, my sweet love He built a rotary cuff His shoulder got smashed He's gotta mend and repair a device To work where he got hit by the blast Oh, woe is he Unable to see in front of his face A mistreated machine...