Текст песни Van Der Graaf Generator - Refugees
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North was somewhere years ago and cold: ice locked the people's hearts and made them old. South was birth to pleasant lands, but dry: I walked the waters' depths and played my mind. East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun: the winds came gently, several heads became one in the summertime, though august people sneered... we were at peace, and we cheered We walked along, sometimes hand in hand, between the thin lines marking sea and sand; smiling very peacefully, we began to notice that we could be free, and we moved together to the West. West is where all days shall someday end; where the colours turn from grey to gold, and you can be with the friends. And light flakes the golden clouds above: West is Mike and Susie, West is where I love. There we shall spend the final days of our lives... tell the same old stories: well, at least we tried. So into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go; oh! yes, and our apologies to those who'll never really know the Way.... We're refugees, walking away from the life we've known and loved... nothing to do nor say, nowhere to stay; now we are alone. We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with string... nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, but we'll be happy on our own. West is Mike and Susie; West is Mike and Susie; West is where I love, West is refugees' home. ----------------------------------------------------------- Север был где-то много лет назад и был холоден: лед сковал сердца людей и сделал их старыми. Юг породил страны приятные, но сухие: я прошел глубины вод и играл со своими желаниями. Восток был зарей, живо приходящей в золотом солнце: ветры прилетали нежно, несколько умов сливались в один в летнее время, хотя люди августа усмехались... мы жили в мире, и мы радовались. Мы шли по дороге, иногда рука об руку, между тонкими линиями, отмечающими море и песок улыбаясь очень умиротворенно, мы начинали замечать, что мы могли быть свободны, и мы двигались вместе на Запад. Запад - там, где все дни когда-нибудь кончатся где краски превращаются из серых в золотые, и ты можешь быть с друзьями. И свет бросает блики на золотые облака вверху: Запад - это Майк и Сюзи, Запад - это место, где я люблю. Там мы проведем последние дни наших жизней... расскажем все те же старые истории: ну, по крайней мере, мы старались. Итак, на Запад, с улыбками на лицах, мы пойдем - о! да, и наши извинения тем, кто никогда не узнает Путь... Мы - изгнанники, уходим из жизни, которую мы знали и любили... нечего делать или говорить, негде остановиться - теперь мы одни. Мы - изгнанники, тащим все, что у нас есть, в коричневых сумках, перевязанных струной... не о чем думать, это ничего не значит, но мы будем счастливы по-своему. Запад - это Майк и Сюзи Запад - это Майк и Сюзи Запад - это место, где я люблю, Запад - это дом для изгнанников. Смотрите также:
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North was somewhere years ago and cold:
ice locked the people's hearts and made them old.
South was birth to pleasant lands, but dry:
I walked the waters' depths and played my mind.
East was dawn, coming alive in the golden sun:
the winds came gently, several heads became one
in the summertime, though august people sneered ...
we were at peace, and we cheered
We walked along, sometimes hand in hand,
between the thin lines marking sea and sand;
smiling very peacefully,
we began to notice that we could be free,
and we moved together to the West.
West is where all days shall someday end;
where the colours turn from grey to gold,
and you can be with the friends.
And light flakes the golden clouds above:
West is Mike and Susie,
West is where I love.
There we shall spend the final days of our lives ...
tell the same old stories: well, at least we tried.
So into the West, smiles on our faces, we'll go;
oh! yes, and our apologies to those
who'll never really know the Way ....
We're refugees, walking away from the life we've known and loved ...
nothing to do nor say, nowhere to stay; now we are alone.
We're refugees, carrying all we own in brown bags, tied up with string ...
nothing to think, it doesn't mean a thing, but we'll be happy on our own.
West is Mike and Susie;
West is Mike and Susie;
West is where I love,
West is refugees' home.
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North was somewhere years ago and was cold :
ice gripped the hearts of people and made them old.
South spawned country pleasant but dry :
I went through water depths and played with their wishes .
East was dawn , coming alive in the golden sun :
winds flew gently several minds merged into one
in the summer, although people in August grinning ...
we lived in the world and we are glad.
We walked along the road , sometimes hand in hand ,
between the thin lines marking sea and sand
smiling very peacefully ,
we started to notice that we could be free ,
and we moved together to the West.
West - where all the days ever run
where colors turn from gray to gold ,
and you can be with your friends.
And light casts reflections on the golden clouds above:
West - this is Mike and Susie ,
West - a place where I like .
There we will spend the last days of our lives ...
tell the same old stories : well, at least we tried.
So, to the West, with smiles on their faces , we go -
oh! yes, and our apologies to those
who will never know ... Way
We - the exiles , withdrawing from life that we know and love ...
nothing to say or do , no place to stay - we're alone now .
We - the exiles , drag all that we have in brown bags , tied with string ...
nothing to think about , it does not mean anything , but we will be happy in their own way .
West - this is Mike and Susie
West - this is Mike and Susie
West - a place where I love
West - is home to exiles.
