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Текст (слова) песни: Beck - Tropicalia



Oh, when they beat upon a broken guitar
And all the streets, they reek of tropical charms
The embassies lie in hideous shards
Where tourists snore and decay

When they dance in a reptile blaze
You wear a mask, an equatorial haze
Into the past, a colonial maze
Where there`s no more confetti to throw

You wouldn`t know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn`t sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be evicted

You`re out of luck, you`re singing funeral songs
To the studs, they`re anabolic and bronze
They seem to strut in their millennial fogs
`Til they fall down and deflate

You wouldn`t know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn`t sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be evicted

Oh, and now, you`ve had your fun
Under an air-conditioned sun
It`s burned into your eyes
Leaves you plain and left behind
I`ll see them rise and fall
Into the jaws of a pestilent love

You wouldn`t know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn`t sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be a victim

 

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