Текст песни Tills - Музыкант

And Verse:
The day is the same as everyone else
Smoldering wasted killing clock.
Affairs at the throat, and snaked window
The wires in the distance tunnel under the thud of blows rail.
There is not anyone who would not be busy.
There's those who do not care,
However, when the train gets up,
Unfazed stay here hardly anyone ...
Chorus:
In endless circles, where noise and eternal longing
A series of rails and sleepers transports thousands of us.
From point B to point A.
Taking a good old Saxon, a couple of coins in his pocket,
Goes gray musician.
Sad music beat knock dispel wheel,
Tying shabby scarf goes on languid series.
No need to call from the bag,
Only the occasional rumor of onlookers,
Taking a good old Saxon
Goes gray musician.
Verse II:
The heartbeat of the speed change,
Knocking wheels left on the back burner.
To it attracted the attention of all,
After all, music is his special gift!
Saxophone sings soul caressing fiber.
Good street magician here just for us.
That sad music beat all negative would be taken away,
Remove the headphones and enjoy the way ...
Chorus:
Verse II:
Stations quickly flew by.
Applauded after hundreds of satisfied people.
Old saxophone sings not for profit,
And in the memory of the days that are gone forever.
To hell with the outside world when the next muse.
The suitcase with battered saxophone scarf.
He is waiting for a flight to the country swing, soul, jazz and blues.
By purchasing tokens, he descends into the underground ...
Chorus: