Carnival Nevermore - The Strange Mambo | Текст песни

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• Carnival Nevermore
• The Strange Mambo

The Strange Mambo.

An orphan, weak and poor!
An orphan behind the closed door!
It seems – this is the end,
But what are these sounds in my head?


I heard of Mambo, heard of Mambo music, and I wanted to dance this unusual dance. But how to learn to do something having no idea what it is. How to repeat something not knowing how it looks. She said: “No ugly dances in my home!” She nailed my window down!
I am just an orphan living in the house of a wicked woman that hates noise, music and dances. And how can I tell my heart to kill the desire to dance Mambo that lives deep within myself? Mambo of which I heard through my window.

Oh, Don’t you stamp here,- cried stepmother,- little, little freak!
Or you will be closed in a cupboard-room for a whole week!
But the heart of an orphan was a rebellious heart
Oh, this orphan’s heart! Oh, this orphan’s heart!

And then I began dancing, learning my Mambo!
I could not see what it was through my nailed window
I heard just echoes - Faint sounds of my Mambo!
I began to try to dance
I have no friends, I have no partners. I’m here all alone
So in my room with no one I am dancing – my strange Mambo…

Quick, quick, slow! Quick, quick, slow!
Step by step I’m learning to dance my strange mambo!

Stepmother came to me with her stick and an awful fat face,
With her angry voice and a horrible grimace.

She_ hit me and I fell, but she continued to beat,
She broke my legs so I couldn't stamp my feet.
She said: \"I saw them dance this ugly vulgar dance you've tried to learn.
Anyway you were dancing something different - so you mourn”.

And now I can only crawl
In despair I can scratch the wall
And now I can forget about my Mambo

I drink rat poison to escape from this terrible place
To come to a place, where my parents are alive, where my feet are healthy.
But there is a stranger in my room,
A tall man in striped pants, white gloves and top hat
He shakes his head, my Jazz-death shakes his head.
He came not for me

Jazz-death does not allow me to drink
the poison, and I know that my stepmother
died that night because of her own anger
And he came for her.

Jazz-death splices my bones, and asks to show him my dance
Death applauds me she liked my dance – oh!
He says: It is the best strange Mambo!


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