The Burning Hell все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

From Biblical Babylon to modern scientology
The problem with cults, at least according to me
Is that it’s so hard to see the purpose, meaning or point in them
And they’re never any fun, but still, people keep joining them
If I was a cult leader, my cult would be wicked
We’d find a jam to kick out, and then we’d just kick it
We’d wear the coolest cult robes and then we’d disrobe each other
We’d never shave our heads or call each other sister and brother

In the age of the barbarians
When people met with scary ends
By bear bite or by battle axe
It was super-violent to the max
There lived a little Viking boy
He was his father’s pride and joy
His mother died in childbirth
And where her blood fell on the earth

Well here’s a little story about a woman that I knew –
It’s no allegory I guarantee it’s all quite true
So I expect you to believe me though you won’t believe your ears
Pay attention, listen up, though you may tremble with fear
You see this woman that I spoke of had a quarrel with her lover;
It seems she had discovered he’d been sleeping with another
And it was on this very spot in June of 1987
That they fought and then he shot her and she died and went to heaven

You were a Nazi hunter.
I was a cockney punter.
We used to meet on some rainy English street,
You’d be looking sharp I’d be in a dirty old jumper.
Despite our different social stations, despite my lack of vocation,
I’d find some piece of crucial information,
And help you bring a war criminal to justice;
We had great imaginations.

The last day of the summer vacation
We stopped in at the gas station
We walked along the train tracks
We didn’t think about going back
We drank watery coffee with cream
The kind that comes in those little plastic things
I was wearing the wrong shoes that day
They were giving me blisters but I didn’t complain

They say he was a pillar of industry
Well, God made some pillars, so some must filler be.
Like me, a simple servant of the company
My humble tongue begins his eulogy
When only a small boy with no mother’s love
And no answers from the Great Dancer up above
And no firm father to guide him
He watched a wild horse, and longed to ride him

It Happens In Florida

Love, it’s like a hurricane: it happens in Florida, it gets into everything.
Love, it’s like a monster truck: it fills up whole stadiums, but it crushes smaller trucks
Love, it’s like a marmoset: it may be small and cute, but sometimes it eats its young
Love, it’s like a trailer park: ugly but functional, the rent is cheap enough
Love, it’s like a garbage man: it collects waste and filth, it smells like rotting flesh
Love, it’s like an interstate: it gets you from place to place, but it’s littered with dead raccoons

It could have been great, it should have been awesome
We played a big show in downtown Toronto
Our friends were all there, the sound was weird but OK,
The guest list was full, I was excited to play
But then what should have been just a simple misunderstanding
Became an unnecessarily scarily harsh reprimanding
When a bouncer discovered a bottle of booze
Backstage with our bags and our clothes and our shoes

There was a restaurant
On the top floor of the Hudson’s Bay
It was called the Paddlewheel
It still is today
And there really was a paddlewheel
Floating in a watery tank
You could lean over the rail, throw a penny in
And make a wish as it sank

I left my apartment for the station
I bought a ticket on the train
And when I reached my destination
There were scattered clouds and a chance of rain
I looked around for a hotel
Nothing fancy, just ok
I found a door and rang the doorbell
This was the place where I would stay

There’s something wrong with my hands
Oh yes, they’re not holding you
They should be enfolding you like a mother’s pouch
Around a baby kangaroo
That sparkle in your eye
Shines like a shiny diamond
In a shiny diamond ring
And like a crow, don’t you know,