| Someone saw the unripe fruit, but
|
| Then he shook the trunk and the fruit fell
|
| And this is the song of those who did not sing
|
| And he did not notice that he had a voice
|
| He never came to terms with his fate
|
| He had not understood the case
|
| And his violin was out of tune
|
| And his rope too tight
|
| Ed intoned the voice in A
|
| The note went no further
|
| But this tuned then he didn't ring out
|
| He did not inspire, he did not provoke
|
| Certainly the dog did not react, the cat neither
|
| It's funny yes, really funny, but
|
| He tried to joke but couldn't
|
| Not even the wine tasted it
|
| The taste did not even feel it
|
| And he ventured into idle discussions
|
| But very slowly and with greater fear
|
| He dripped the soul through the pores
|
| With a thousand drops of sweat, sweat
|
| And on the square the duel began
|
| But without any idea
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| Of some rule, trick or trap
|
| The referee then did not give the go
|
| And he aimed for the end
|
| But he didn't even stop halfway
|
| He did not understand the false or a truth
|
| She was the only one and neither was she
|
| She never quite managed to love
|
| She never loved, she never loved ...
|
| It's funny yes, really funny, but
|
| He went higher but did not fly
|
| Only a little did he confront each other
|
| He lacked what was lacking, always lacking, all was lacking
|
| He was the pursuer of a pure style
|
| I'm serious, it's not untruth
|
| He wrote verses on the snow and then
|
| And then the snow will fade, it will melt
|
| But it continued, the great snowfall
|
| He threw verses on the light carpet
|
| He was chasing with his mouth wide open
|
| Snow hail crystals
|
| And he got into his landau
|
| But he didn't go there, he didn't go there
|
| And he failed to escape to the North Pole
|
| The ride did not end
|
| The bull, its constellation
|
| In the milky way he bellowed
|
| It's funny yes, really funny, but
|
| He missed the note after the a
|
| For a note of one second only
|
| He won't fly, he won't fly ...
|
| It's funny, yes, what a funny and pleasant story
|
| Of course for me, for you I don't know
|
| The horse trots and the blackbird glides
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| Will pay, who will pay, who will pay ... |