The fire of Babylon (BG) He comes when to this no one is not ready Old-fashioned polite, as in the films of
the thirties To seek him senselessly, like a needle in
a haystack We have with him the one unfinished
business on the east coast He smiles when in his presence they say:
"we" Like and I, he belongs to the children of
northern darkness, But he is less of everything like a defenseless
leaf in the wind He says: "Going to bed, never know – Where will discover myself in the
morning" To know the taste of water need to start
drinking But you got used to the labyrinth, forgot what for to you thread You come to the goal to take the corner – Babylon plays football your head, it's Babylon
plays football your head They recount that he has not one life, and
three They recount that he is perfectly empty
inside No one had seen that he would have answered
blow for blow He strongly has changed ever since turned
and gone away under radar And you are powered in GPS, now run – no
run Black birds will be to narrow over you
circles On the radio will be singing that love is
ring The fire of the stoves of Babylon singes
your face... Many hope that he has departed from
affairs That he sold oneself, became a drunkard and
became scanty That he burnt down or fell through under
the ice But the wrong bees continue Doing their the wrong honey And so there remains only the pure water And fastening you wires It remains that, on what the machine gives
malfunction And Babylon… Babylon… Babylon is not imperious over you… Babylon has never been imperious over you
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