Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sonnet #65, artist - Pearls Before Swine. Album song City Of Gold, in the genre Музыка мираSonnet #65(original) |
| Elle marchait sur les traces, des flashs |
| D'étranges neiges |
| En enchainant les passes, les clashs |
| D’un mauvais rêve |
| Dans une armure de cuir intégrale |
| Couverture de polar à trois balles |
| Moitié panthère moitié femme fatale… pour marin en escale |
| Son visage tel un masque de cire |
| D’fière indigène |
| Ne laissait pas la place aux sourires |
| Ni à la peine |
| Son regard ne cherchait plus le sud |
| Pas plus que n’importe quelle latitude |
| Aucune illusion quant aux préludes… aux nuits de servitudes |
| Elle marchait sur les traces, les flashs |
| D'étranges neiges |
| En enchaînant les passes, les clashs |
| D’un mauvais rêve |
| J’la voyais dans la glace, sa grace |
| Me transportait |
| Comment rester de glace, de grace |
| Pas de procés |
| Je lui ai fait une place au comptoir |
| M’attirant les foudres d’un lascar |
| Sans détour la belle m’a fait savoir… qu’elle prenait les dollars |
| On a pris le premier hôtel |
| Une chambre blanche |
| Moi j’ai sorti les verres et elle |
| Sa poussière d’ange |
| On a tutoyé tous les nuages |
| Sans tour operator, sans bagages |
| J’l’ai suivi jusqu'à l’ultime étage… au plus doux des naufrages |
| (translation) |
| She walked in the footsteps, flashes |
| strange snows |
| By chaining the passes, the clashes |
| From a bad dream |
| In full leather armor |
| Three-Ball Fleece Blanket |
| Half panther, half femme fatale… for a sailor on a stopover |
| Her face like a wax mask |
| Of proud native |
| Left no room for smiles |
| Nor bother |
| His gaze no longer sought the south |
| No more than any latitude |
| No illusions about the preludes... the nights of bondage |
| She walked on the traces, the flashes |
| strange snows |
| By chaining the passes, the clashes |
| From a bad dream |
| I saw her in the mirror, her grace |
| Carried me |
| How to stay cold, graceful |
| No trial |
| I gave her a seat at the counter |
| Attracting me the wrath of a lascar |
| Straightforward the beauty let me know... that she was taking the dollars |
| We took the first hotel |
| A white bedroom |
| I took out the glasses and she |
| Her angel dust |
| We've brushed all the clouds |
| Without tour operator, without luggage |
| I followed him to the top floor...to the sweetest of shipwrecks |
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