Текст песни Лора Бочарова - Песня о менестрельском несчастье

Em Am C H7
Morning colors gentle light walls, towers and fields
      Em Am C G
Wakes up at dawn rested land.
     D G H7 Em
Good to wander around the world, but no matter where you look -
     Am Em H7 Em
From dead minstrels not drive, do not go.
     Am Em H7 Em
From dead minstrels or drive or walk.

Lots of them vanished in vain under the hand of kings,
Twilight in the throne rooms, on the floor galleries,
Exclusively for the truth - straight into the eyes of the despot -
For cutting the truth-womb can not be usurper.

A lot of them had the love of the beautiful:
Insane jealous husband - on the parquet bloodshed,
Mnyat head on a platter, the wife cry in three streams ...
Is it difficult to choose the lady that draw?

And they are killed when a fight goes the dashing,
When climb right from the lute in the thick of the battle the fire.
Between two haystacks - whether the lute, or the sword ...
Musicians field covered completely bloody Sec!

Their bodies are in prison on the benches, their bodies on the pavement,
From the windows they were falling boudoirs crowd
The frenetic heather they also stopped glance -
And the sad big eyes straight to the soul you look!

Since I live minstrel stopped in the fields:
String lute half, thin fingers in the blood.
I said fell, perhaps? He just shook his head:
"I'm just playing nervously, my lot so proud!"

And what they do not like, and that they only beat?
You hear, however, what they sing:
All about death, but about the funeral feast, bloody hands ...
The complex of sadomasochism - this is their muse for the ages!

P.S. Their crown is like the wild rose - the messianic destiny!
All they want to thorns to sing it himself.
What a feast of corpses imposed on us at last ?!
Vaughn sings ... I do not know? He birthday not long.