The memories of a man in his old age Are the deeds of a man in his prime You shuffle in the gloom of a sickroom And talk to yourself as you die Life
(instrumental)
You shout in your sleep Perhaps the price is just too steep Is your conscience at rest If once put to the test? You awake with a start To just the beating
(Instrumental)
Come on, my friends, Let's make for the hills. They say there's gold but I'm looking for thrills. You can get your hands on whatever we find, Because
me in from the cold Turn my land into gold Cause there's chill wind blowing in my soul And I think I'm growing old Fly bright by candlelight Up out of
Ancient bonds are breaking Moving on and changing sides Dreaming of a new day Cast aside the other way Magic visions stirring Kindled by and burning
Instrumental
'll put one down 'Cause I wanna find What lies behind those eyes Midnight blue Burning gold A yellow moon Is growing cold I rise Looking through my morning eyes Surprised to find you by
Превод: "Пинк Флойд". Закрита от облаците.
higher Ancient bulbs are breaking, leaving all and changing sides dreaming of a new day, cast aside the other way magic vision, staring, kindled by the
: One two three four The memories of a man in his old age are the deeds of a man in his prime you shuffle in the gloom of the sick room and talk to
after mile, stone after stone you turn to speak but your alone million miles from home you're on your own Fly kite by candle light with her by my side
: You shout in your sleep that's the price, it's just too steep is your conscience at rest it was put to the test you awake with a start just the beating
get one down ' cause I want to find what lies behind those eyes Midnight blue, burning gold a yellow moon is growing cold I rise, looking through my morning eyes surprised to find you by
: Come on, my friends, let's make for the hills they say there's gold and I'm looking for thrills you can get your hands on whatever we find ' cause
