Текст песни Башня Rowan - Пчелы-блюз

Bees Blues
              "... We hear, even at the lower levels
              human ladder as soon as you put your ear,
              some unspecified buzz about divine things ... "
                  Max Muller, "Religion as a subject of a comparative study"
I'm funny honey bee Blazhnov.
I buzz through the bushes God-given broom.
In a colorful sky, empty rattle two boilers.
My sisters winged, my sister shaggy,
boilers deserted golden soldiers
I buzz themselves in the bushes. So it goes.
 
Dripping drop by drop - and full of pot.
drop in a drop flows - polupolon another.
Countless generations buzzing bees
pour centuries frozen flame,
and cast boilers can not grasp hands.
I with them. I am where yellow sweet clover zatsvёl.
 
The sisters are angry at me - they are free to be angry.
Days after day pass his succession,
from me gold Well not wait for the waves.
Honey my Meden, and poor, and it is not fit,
Honey, my bitter look and smell is black,
but, perhaps, without a drop of my boiler is not full.

05/06/96