Текст песни The Doors - Black Polished Chrome
Просмотров
50
0 чел. считают текст песни верным
0 чел. считают текст песни неверным
Для вашего ознакомления предоставлен текст песни The Doors - Black Polished Chrome, а еще перевод песни с видео или клипом. Также вы можете прослушать песню онлайн
The music was new,
black polished chrome
And came over the summer
like liquid night.
The DJ's took pills to stay awake
and play for seven days.
They went to the studio
and someone knew him;
Someone knew the TV showman.
He came to our homeroom party
and played records
And when he left in the hot noon sun
and walked to his car,
We saw the chooks had written
F-U-C-K on his windshield.
He wiped it off with a white rag
and, smiling coolly, drove away.
"He's rich. Got a big car."
Звучала новая музыка,
блестящий чёрный хром,
И струилась сквозь лето,
Подобно хмельной ночи
Ди-джеи глотали колёса, чтобы не спать
и вкалывали семь дней к ряду.
Они зашли в студию,
и кто-то узнал его;
Кто-то узнал ведущего телевизионного шоу.
Он пришёл на нашу домашнюю вечеринку
и крутил там пластинки.
А когда он ушёл в лучах полуденного солнца, раскалённого до предела,
и направился к своей машине,
Мы увидели, что педрилы написали слово
"FUCK" на лобовом стекле его авто.
Он вытер эту надпись стерильно-белой тряпочкой
и, безмятежно улыбаясь, укатил.
Он богат. Тачка у него крутая.
black polished chrome
And came over the summer
like liquid night.
The DJ's took pills to stay awake
and play for seven days.
They went to the studio
and someone knew him;
Someone knew the TV showman.
He came to our homeroom party
and played records
And when he left in the hot noon sun
and walked to his car,
We saw the chooks had written
F-U-C-K on his windshield.
He wiped it off with a white rag
and, smiling coolly, drove away.
"He's rich. Got a big car."
Звучала новая музыка,
блестящий чёрный хром,
И струилась сквозь лето,
Подобно хмельной ночи
Ди-джеи глотали колёса, чтобы не спать
и вкалывали семь дней к ряду.
Они зашли в студию,
и кто-то узнал его;
Кто-то узнал ведущего телевизионного шоу.
Он пришёл на нашу домашнюю вечеринку
и крутил там пластинки.
А когда он ушёл в лучах полуденного солнца, раскалённого до предела,
и направился к своей машине,
Мы увидели, что педрилы написали слово
"FUCK" на лобовом стекле его авто.
Он вытер эту надпись стерильно-белой тряпочкой
и, безмятежно улыбаясь, укатил.
Он богат. Тачка у него крутая.
The music was new,
black polished chrome
And come over the summer
like liquid night.
Dj
and play for seven days.
They went to the studio
and someone knew him;
Someone knew the TV showman.
He came to our homeroom party
and played records
And when he left in the hot sun
and walked to his car,
We saw the chooks had written
F-U-C-K on his windshield.
He wiped it off with a white rag
and, smiling coolly, drove away.
"He's rich. Got a big car."
Sounded new music,
shiny black chrome
And flowed through the summer,
Like a drunken night
DJs swallowed the wheels so as not to sleep
and worked seven days in a row.
They went into the studio,
and someone recognized him;
Someone recognized a television show host.
He came to our home party
and twisted records there.
And when he left in the rays of the midday sun, heated to the limit,
and headed for my car,
We saw that the fagots wrote the word
"FUCK" on the windshield of his car.
He wiped this inscription with a sterile white cloth.
and, smiling serenely, rolled away.
He is rich. His car is cool.
black polished chrome
And come over the summer
like liquid night.
Dj
and play for seven days.
They went to the studio
and someone knew him;
Someone knew the TV showman.
He came to our homeroom party
and played records
And when he left in the hot sun
and walked to his car,
We saw the chooks had written
F-U-C-K on his windshield.
He wiped it off with a white rag
and, smiling coolly, drove away.
"He's rich. Got a big car."
Sounded new music,
shiny black chrome
And flowed through the summer,
Like a drunken night
DJs swallowed the wheels so as not to sleep
and worked seven days in a row.
They went into the studio,
and someone recognized him;
Someone recognized a television show host.
He came to our home party
and twisted records there.
And when he left in the rays of the midday sun, heated to the limit,
and headed for my car,
We saw that the fagots wrote the word
"FUCK" on the windshield of his car.
He wiped this inscription with a sterile white cloth.
and, smiling serenely, rolled away.
He is rich. His car is cool.