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 And
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 recorded 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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