IL A MODRAS - Siddharta
С переводом

IL A MODRAS - Siddharta

Альбом
Petrolea
Год
2006
Язык
`Slovenian`
Длительность
274490

Below is the lyrics of the song IL A MODRAS , artist - Siddharta with translation

Lyrics " IL A MODRAS "

Original text with translation

IL A MODRAS

Siddharta

Оригинальный текст

Znanje

Surovina za motor

Je kodirano a klik ustvari kaos in teror

Bizar

Je postal obligator

A ne loči kaj je pizda in kaj umazana gospa

Rafal

Del vsake ulice

Del ubite kritike

Cilja da podre

Vedno bolj umira modra zibelka

Vedno bolj umira nam razum

Kaj jim bomo rekli ko pridejo po nas

Je ta minuta že bila

Morje

Je očitno žalostno

Nakopičilo je solze potopilo bo zemljo

Sonce

Se bori za svojo hči

A s premočnimi objemi nenamerno jo duši

Atom

Mali delček vsega

Smo razcepili na dva

V silo gobe zla

Vedno bolj umira modra zibelka

Vedno bolj umira nam razum

Kaj jim bomo rekli ko pridejo po nas

Je ta minuta že bila

Ni koristi obljub

Ni veselja prelitega na te

Starodavne gentlemane

Bil je sam bil je tuj

Brez obleh in stran od sivih muh

Pleše vedno ko zaspim

Vedno bolj umira modra zibelka

Vedno bolj umira nam razum

Kaj jim bomo rekli ko pridejo po nas

Je ta minuta že bila

Перевод песни

Knowledge

Raw material for the engine

It is coded and a click creates chaos and terror

Bizarre

He became an obligor

But don't tell the difference between a cunt and a dirty lady

Rafal

Part of every street

Part of the kill criticism

Aim to collapse

The blue cradle is dying more and more

Our minds are dying more and more

What will we tell them when they come for us

It was already that minute

The sea

It's obviously sad

Accumulated tears will sink the earth

The sun

He is fighting for his daughter

But with too strong hugs he inadvertently suffocates her

Atom

A small part of everything

We split in two

In the force of the mushroom of evil

The blue cradle is dying more and more

Our minds are dying more and more

What will we tell them when they come for us

It was already that minute

There is no use of promises

There is no joy poured out on you

Ancient gentlemen

He was alone he was a stranger

No rounds and away from gray flies

She dances every time I fall asleep

The blue cradle is dying more and more

Our minds are dying more and more

What will we tell them when they come for us

It was already that minute

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