Michael Nyman & David McAlmont - 3. City of Turin | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Michael Nyman & David McAlmont
• 3. City of Turin

I can't go home
I hate it hear
The wind gets through
The flimsy things they make me wear
Nobody hear wants to hear
The truth of how it's been
For a girl on the street
In the city of Turin

After dark in Valentino Park
They took away my passport
And left a scar
And my friend died
Because she couldn't lie
Truth is a sin on the street
In the city of Turin

They make me rent the spot on which I stand
They make me pay for this clothing and
I feel abandoned in this foggy land
In this city called Turin

I wave at cars
To get inside
Just to keep warm
I let him treat me like a wife
If I remember just how I have survived
I can take it in, in a car, in a street, in the city of Turin

Days in the desert without water and
Crammed in a truck and dragged overland
We numbered more at the beginning than
Since we reached where the rivers meet
In the city called Turin