За всички клубарки и клубари, клубовници и пр.
Публикувано на: 26.01.07, 11:27
Петъчно, малко нежно-меланхолично...защото вали и защото е петък...и защото кой знае...прииска ми се да споделя малко настроение....
За историите, които всички носим със себе си, без които щяхме да сме различни и ако и да ни стисват понякога за гърлото, карат ни да се чувстваме живи.
http://free.bol.bg/swab/mp3/Evergreens/ ... 20Song.mp3
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style,
And so I came to see him and listen for a while.
And there he was this young boy, stranger to my eyes,
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
I felt all flushed with fever,
Embarrassed by the crowd,
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish,
But he just kept right on strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song
Yo l-boogie, take it to the bridge
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
Strumming my pain with his finger, yeah he was . . .

За историите, които всички носим със себе си, без които щяхме да сме различни и ако и да ни стисват понякога за гърлото, карат ни да се чувстваме живи.
http://free.bol.bg/swab/mp3/Evergreens/ ... 20Song.mp3
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style,
And so I came to see him and listen for a while.
And there he was this young boy, stranger to my eyes,
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
I felt all flushed with fever,
Embarrassed by the crowd,
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud.
I prayed that he would finish,
But he just kept right on strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song
Yo l-boogie, take it to the bridge
Strumming my pain with his fingers,
Singing my life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song,
Killing me softly with his song,
Telling my whole life with his words,
Killing me softly with his song.
Strumming my pain with his finger, yeah he was . . .