Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nekako S Proljeća, artist - Crvena jabuka. Album song Crvena Jabuka - Original Album Collection, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 02.11.2016
Record label: croatia
Song language: Bosnian
Nekako S Proljeća(original) |
Nekako s proljeca |
uvijek meni doluta |
neka ceznja tamna |
tiha mudrost davna |
Spustam ja stare kofere |
na perone sudbine |
to je miris zrelih godina |
moj kaput, bas je tezak, najdraza |
Nekako s proljeca |
ja se sjetim starih drugova |
probude se u meni |
svi derneci pijani |
Tad nosim stare cipele |
one znaju moje ulice |
to je boja, crnoponocna |
moji koraci, bas su teski, najdraza |
Ref. |
I opet taj osjecaj samoce |
kad nece nikog mene krene i hoce |
i opet mrakom svoje pjesme bojim |
pijan od zelje za usnama tvojim |
sav sam ti od ludila, nekako s proljeca |
Nekako s proljeca |
sjeti mene nepravda |
na pobjede, poraze |
i sve lazne obzire |
Napravim, racun prastanja |
popijem, pusta mastanja |
to je ukus, lijepog kajanja |
moji kapci, bas su teski, najdraza |
Nekako s proljeca |
noc mi oci otvara |
nemam san da uhvatim |
nema dana da ne izludim |
A hocu da te vodim ja tragom sunca, jugom maslina |
to je dodir tvojih bedara |
moja dusa, bas te voli, najdraza |
Ref. |
(translation) |
Somehow from spring |
always to me |
let the longing dark |
silent wisdom long ago |
I put down my old suitcases |
on the platform of destiny |
it is the scent of mature years |
my coat, it's very heavy, darling |
Somehow from spring |
I remember old comrades |
they wake up in me |
all derneci drunk |
Then I wear old shoes |
they know my streets |
it is a color, black and midnight |
my steps are very difficult, my dearest |
Ref. |
And again that feeling of loneliness |
when no one wants to go and want me |
and again with the darkness of my song I paint |
drunk with desire for your lips |
I'm all mad, kind of spring |
Somehow from spring |
remember me injustice |
to victories, defeats |
and all false considerations |
I make, an account of forgiveness |
I drink, empty fantasies |
it is a taste, of beautiful remorse |
my eyelids are very heavy, darling |
Somehow from spring |
the night opens my eyes |
I have no dream of catching |
there is not a day that I do not go mad |
And I want to lead you in the footsteps of the sun, in the south of the olive grove |
it is the touch of your thighs |
my soul, he loves you very much, dearest |
Ref. |