Текст песни Бродяги Тхармы - одинокий бродяга Марк Ландао

lonely drifter howling at the moon
fingering the little things in my pants
wind Kolyshev dry grass
leaving the taste on the lips
out of your ears up branches
foliage cover his eyes
you just got out of a silver cell
and you do not want back

Night blinds dull lantern light
warm heat to pollution from gold hands
where eternal summer you have not been
you were locked in , and now you're walking around
through the yards of their moves and neighborhoods
brick through a lot of rocks
You have sheltered empty stations
and in them you slept quietly