The Out Loud - Сhild of Generation | Текст песни

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• The Out Loud
• Сhild of Generation

A little hard to admit to yourself
What do you have healthy adult male.
And to deny to any problems,
Have to try to find to tell.

 That's how I remember as a child
 We were terrible force,
 And we will not touch anything,
 We kept the fate of all.
 And we were given a gift of nature
 To live only for inspiration.
 We all rays without light,
 We are the childs of generation.

Looking at the second someone else's window,
We feel bored - again anyway.
But if suddenly someone look into yours,
from the fight You're running away
Sometimes we can sit down quietly,
A look at the passers-by, whom don't count,
Indifference to play with each other,
And listen to breath, and and thinking surround.
What kind of wildness, to drive yourself,
I'm in a cage, I can understand -
What is this sprint depths of the soul,
What can be found inside of the head?
The answer comes, it is scary,
I terribly sick and loosing my mind.
Now again everything is burned inside
And the whispering lips - "Pain, quiet die."

Thoughts images of the word,
their rambling stream,
I can not in any way
relieve my terrible dreams.

 Confused pole
 where good and evil, I forgot,
 The heavens do not know
 where is now my soul.
 New spiral curl,
 that leads us through life,
 Again, the flow of images,
 Cut me like a knife
 
Looking at the second someone else's window,
We feel bored - again anyway.
But if suddenly someone look into yours,
from the fight You're running away
Sometimes we can sit down quietly,
A look at the passers-by, whom don't count,
Indifference to play with each other,
And listen to breath, and and thinking surround.
What kind of wildness, to drive yourself,
I'm in a cage, I can understand -
What is this sprint depths of the soul,
What can be found inside of the head?
The answer comes, it is scary,
I terribly sick and loosing my mind.
Now again everything is burned inside
And the whispering lips - "Pain, quiet die."

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