Текст песни One-eyed - Повзрослевшие дети

We are grown children
Forgotten to grow up.
And everyone, perhaps, saw
His game death.

Loyal to books
Breath is the rustling of pages.
Bearing someone's name
From a pile of someone's faces.

We are the children of our own songs
Heroes of "Ballad of Struggle",
We believe the world is wonderful
When we talk about the game.

Crowd of eccentric funny
With blunt swords in their hands.
But there are real wounds
And joy, and loyalty, and fear.

Wandering between worlds
From our non-kids games,
Keep it like an ancient banner
Our little strange world.

In big cities they are homeless
Wealth is our resounding laugh.
But manna in my palms
Just autumn snow.

Entangled in the wilds of sites,
Captured by studies and work,
In ordinary life we ​​play
And we expect that the winter will pass.

In the interweaving of Darkness and Light
We believe in the coming dawn.
We are grown children
Forgotten to grow up.

author Maudit_par_le_soleil