Gun — The Heart on the Quay_01
THE HEART ON THE QUAY
The heart that walked among the rods and blocks,
Contemplated concrete in the factory courts
Is not there anymore.
Lashing rain breaks the road,
Fills the holes near the borders I’ve crossed.
Dwarf houses try to conceal it with the lime and the shadow.
Every place in this town
Has the side, which allows
To walk in with the axe
And find no one to murder though.
And sharp thoughts go milder and start looking for someone to kiss.
As it ends, I remain being driven to your
Pale lips.
The wind plaits dark strings in your hair,
Oh, fairy-girl made of despair.
The night when the heart put itself into the book
With the recipes of transformation into the crook
Or into God – choice depends on you –
That night was condemned to change the blood-colour into the blue.
But what I see is the wet pavement
Blurring the lights, watering the ravens
With the burning brown brew,
Which consists of pigeon’s guts,
Twenty pounds of a lime,
Fourteen tubes of glue,
Mixed with traces of the flood.
And three flows of blue blood
Accomplish the needed brown,
And then they keep on trickling down
Into the manhole.
My eyes, as well, are already brown, my dear.
But in the daytime they’re watching the town of grey
And your pale skin twinkling in the clouded rays of the day.
And the wind plaits dark strings in your hair,
Oh, fairy-girl made of despair.
The heart that walked among the rods and blocks,
Contemplated concrete in the factory courts
Is not there anymore.
Lashing rain breaks the road,
Fills the holes near the borders I’ve crossed.
Dwarf houses try to conceal it with the lime and the shadow.
Every place in this town
Has the side, which allows
To walk in with the axe
And find no one to murder though.
And sharp thoughts go milder and start looking for someone to kiss.
As it ends, I remain being driven to your
Pale lips.
The wind plaits dark strings in your hair,
Oh, fairy-girl made of despair.
The night when the heart put itself into the book
With the recipes of transformation into the crook
Or into God – choice depends on you –
That night was condemned to change the blood-colour into the blue.
But what I see is the wet pavement
Blurring the lights, watering the ravens
With the burning brown brew,
Which consists of pigeon’s guts,
Twenty pounds of a lime,
Fourteen tubes of glue,
Mixed with traces of the flood.
And three flows of blue blood
Accomplish the needed brown,
And then they keep on trickling down
Into the manhole.
My eyes, as well, are already brown, my dear.
But in the daytime they’re watching the town of grey
And your pale skin twinkling in the clouded rays of the day.
And the wind plaits dark strings in your hair,
Oh, fairy-girl made of despair.
Краткое описание
Песня «The Heart on the Quay» повествует о любви и отчуждении в городской среде. Автор описывает свою любовь, которая была заключена в книге, и как они пытаются справиться с жизнью в городе. Текст песни насыщен метафорами и символами, которые создают атмосферу песни. Песня выражает чувство одиночества и потери в городской среде, но также показывает надежду на то, что любовь может помочь преодолеть эти трудности.
Текст добавил: Андрей Курышев