My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
He doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
He doesn't make tables, dresses or chairs
He can't carve a whistle cause he just doesn't care
My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor
Kings and queens them all knocked on his door
Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves
They all come to impact he's so eager to please
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it's not just for work and it isn't for play
He's made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he'll make one for you
My boy builds coffins for better or worse
Some say it's a blessing, some say it's a curse
He fits them together in sunshine or rain
Each one is unique, no two are the same
My boy builds coffins and I think it's a shame
That when eachones been made, he can't see it again
He crafts every one with love and repair
Then it's thrown in the ground and it just doesn't fit
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it's not just for work and it isn't for play
He's made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he'll make one for you
Мой парень мастерит гробы молотком и гвоздями,
Он не строит корабли, ничего не смыслит в парусах.
Он не делает столы, шкафы или стулья,
Он не умеет вырезать свисток, его это не волнует.
Мой парень мастерит гробы для богатых и бедных
Короли и королевы, все они стучались в его дверь.
Нищие и лжецы, цыгане и воры
Все они приходят к нему, потому что он так стремится угодить.
Мой парень мастерит гробы, он делает их целыми днями,
Но это не только для работы или ради забавы.
Он сделал один для себя, также один для меня,
Однажды он сделает его и тебе.
Мой парень мастерит гробы для хороших и плохих,
Одни считают это благодеянием, другие проклятием.
Он расставляет их все вместе в солнце и дождь
Каждый из них уникален, нет двух одинаковых.
Мой парень мастерит гробы, и я считаю досадным,
Что когда каждый из них сделан, он больше не увидит его.
Он изготовляет каждый с любовью и заботой,
А его потом закапывают в землю, и это просто несправедливость.
Мой парень мастерит гробы, он делает их целыми днями
Но это не только для работы или ради забавы
Он сделал один для себя, также один для меня
Однажды он сделает его и тебе. My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
He does not build ships, he has no use for sails
He does not make tables, dresses or chairs
He can not carve a whistle cause he just does not care
My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor
Kings and queens them all knocked on his door
Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves
They all come to impact he's so eager to please
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it's not just for work and it is not for play
He's made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he'll make one for you
My boy builds coffins for better or worse
Some say it's a blessing, some say it's a curse
He fits them together in sunshine or rain
Each one is unique, no two are the same
My boy builds coffins and I think it's a shame
That when eachones been made, he can not see it again
He crafts every one with love and repair
Then it's thrown in the ground and it just does not fit
My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it's not just for work and it is not for play
He's made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he'll make one for you
My guy tinkering coffins hammer and nails,
He does not build ships, did not understand anything in the sails.
It does not make tables, cabinets or chairs,
He can not cut the whistle, he does not care.
My guy tinkering coffins for the rich and the poor
Kings and queens, they knocked on his door.
Beggars and liars, thieves and gypsies
All of them come to him because he is so eager to please.
My guy tinkering coffins, he makes them all day,
But it's not just for work or for fun.
He made one for himself and one for me,
One day he will do it and you.
My guy tinkering coffins for good and bad,
Some consider it a blessing, others a curse.
He puts them all together in the sun and rain
Each one is unique, no two are alike.
My guy tinkering coffins, and I think unfortunate,
When each of them is made, it will no longer see it.
He produces each with love and care,
And he then buried in the ground, and that's just wrong.
My guy tinkering coffins, he makes them all day
But it's not just for work or for fun
He made one for himself and one for me
One day he will do it and you. Смотрите также: | |
