Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mrtvi..., artist - Đorđe Balašević. Album song Devedesete, in the genre Иностранная авторская песняDate of issue: 31.12.1999
Record label: Djordje Balasevic
Song language: Croatian
Mrtvi...(original) |
| Od loših vesti i reklama prognan |
| Utekoh na, treći program |
| Gde je, nekim čudom |
| Tekla poznata burleska |
| Svi oni gegovi, i lica ista |
| Slikovnica što se lista setno |
| Ko na dnu škrinje nađena sveska |
| Osmeh se zaledi na čas |
| Gde su sad Laurel i Hardi |
| I ovaj ljuti zrika i njegov beli psić? |
| O, svi su mrtvi, odnešeni |
| Bršljan je davno prekrio stih |
| Od zla i briga, su rešeni |
| Al' divna ludost ko oreol još rominja oko njih |
| Bila je berba, osta fotka od nje |
| Leto neznano gospodnje |
| No, uglavnom, ta su burad otkad popijena |
| Ćale s' kačketom, čuvenim, od tvida |
| Putunju sa leđa skida |
| Deda pred vranca spušta otkose sena |
| U smeđoj senci bresaka |
| Samo po bluzi poznam majku |
| I ko da čujem mobu i kikote niz drum |
| Al' svi su mrtvi i blaženi |
| Bršljan je davno prekrio stih |
| Od zlih vremena su spašeni |
| A trag poštenja i dobrote, ko oreol još rominja oko njih |
| U godišnjaku škole, važna lica |
| Šmekera i bubalica |
| Ali samo jedan moto: Drži se, Planeto |
| Sanjari, genijalci, šampioni |
| Žrtvovani ko pioni |
| Pale su zastave, u četrdes' petoj |
| Kad god ih sretnem, žale se |
| Šapuću ko zaverenici |
| Al' pijan dah je vetar |
| Što zmaja ne diže |
| Ma, već su mrtvi, a hodaju |
| Ja nisam rođen da čekam smak… Ne |
| Moj život nije, na prodaju |
| A kad pleteš, svoj oreol |
| Za to i nema boljeg mesta, nego mrak |
| (translation) |
| From bad news and advertising banished |
| I ran on, third program |
| Where it is, by some miracle |
| The famous burlesque flowed |
| All those gags, and faces the same |
| A picture book that is listed sadly |
| Like a notebook found at the bottom of the chest |
| The smile freezes in time |
| Where are Laurel and Hardy now? |
| And this angry cricket and his white puppy? |
| Oh, they're all dead, taken away |
| Ivy covered the verse a long time ago |
| From evil and worries, they are solved |
| But wonderful madness like a halo still roams around them |
| It was a vintage, a photo of her remained |
| Year unknown gentlemen |
| But mostly, those barrels have been drunk ever since |
| Dad with a tweed cap, famous |
| He takes the road off his back |
| Grandpa drops hay in front of the crow |
| In the brown shade of peaches |
| I only know my mother by her blouse |
| And who can hear mobs and giggles across the road |
| But all are dead and blessed |
| Ivy covered the verse a long time ago |
| They have been saved from evil times |
| And a trace of honesty and kindness, like a halo still roaming around them |
| In the school yearbook, important people |
| Smakera and bug |
| But only one motto: Hold on, Planet |
| Dreamers, geniuses, champions |
| Sacrificed as pawns |
| The flags fell, at forty-five |
| Whenever I meet them, they complain |
| I whisper like conspirators |
| But a drunken breath is the wind |
| What a dragon does not rise |
| Well, they're already dead, and they're walking |
| I was not born to wait for the end… No. |
| My life is not, for sale |
| And when you knit, your halo |
| There is no better place for that than darkness |