Ashes of Home
I was rolling back home from the land of nowhere
Shredding soul into blood, scraping through to high pitch,
Thoughtful days, painful nights going past to elsewhere,
Hoping home was not far at the range of my reach.
Минский институт иностранных языков (МГПИИЯ)
I was rolling back home from the land of nowhere
Shredding soul into blood, scraping through to high pitch,
Thoughtful days, painful nights going past to elsewhere,
Hoping home was not far at the range of my reach.
Pain is all I can feel killing me every day
Wrapped by walls thick and high, find myself in a cage
When I have to say yes but behave otherwise
Playing game to pretend being smart but not wise
And the stone is so hard and the rule is so strict
I’m helpless to break with my bloody smashed fists
And I’d wish to cry out to let someone hear
But choke down my tears whispering in despair
Сменяются эпохи, проходят времена,
Давно уже колеса попрали стремена,
Но даже в век моторов бывает сложно нам
Найти альтернативу обычным лошадям.
Morning dew is on the ground
Traces left still wet behind
Walking down the desert streets
Waiting for the night to quit
As the daily routine the Death comes along
Taking toll of those been listed for so long
And so it came to someone next victim on the wait
And then it was just business and neither love nor hate
Выпускник МГПИИЯ (МГЛУ) 1975 года.
Любимые преподаватели иняза: Л. П. Кортес, Д. Г. Богушевич, Ф. Кулаков (покойные ныне) и Ю. В. Стулов.
Википедия: Ян Эмильевич Пробштейн.
Когда раздастся звук Сего дня звонкий
И силы зла погибнут наконец.
Услышат все вмиг голос громкий
Архангела трубы! Так повелел Творец.
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