Текст песни Бостонское чаепитие - Безумный художник

I decided to write an obscure artist
Immortal thing
And show
all people
Divine beauty.
Late at night, he locked himself
The poor little room, and the window
The wind howled and the rain was furious.
All night he did not spare the canvas,
The idea was bright and clean -
On the canvas, he decided to capture the harmony of the world.

Gore beauty and charm of the plains,
Human faces and bright pictures
Children playing in the sunshine.
The smell of grass and the rustle of leaves, the faces of angels, Eden Gardens,
Holy Love that exists in the world.

At daybreak artist in impotence he fell,
Like all night
He was dead drunk,
And his lips whispered, turning pale, "I'm a genius!"
When the room was light
And when people found him,
Everyone froze in front of a canvas with an expression of fear.

Terrible crowds of people, without sockets,
Mad cripples skewed persons
Viewed from the canvas writhing in agony Wild.
Bloody hands, a sea of ​​fire,
Piles of bones of sacrificed children ...
There's the rules of death, grinning and glad cries.

Artist lay not seeing the morning, no one knew,
What happened to him yesterday,
When the wind howled outside the window and was furious rain ...