Текст песни Dylan Thomas Days (Gathering Field) с переводом

Treetops spinning at the outskirts of my vision

In the back yard of a stranger on the edges of my mind

I lay broken with my belly up to heaven, I guess

Drinking hard for seven days can turn your blue eyes blind

Held that tragic destiny

Like a puppet on my knee

Blurred the line 'tween him and me

And nearly lost my soul

'till I realized I could

Get that puppet, get him good

I used that doll for kindling wood

To warm me from the cold

Oh my Dylan Thomas days are finally over

I’m through with all those self-destructive ways

And though I ain’t exactly clean at least I’m sober

I made it through my Dylan Thomas days

Lord have mercy, it’s a sunny, Sunday morning

And I am not in a coma and there’s nothing I regret

I did not wake up thirsty or to the sound of my own snoring

And the not so faint aroma of tequila on my breath

What a concept, can it be?

I feel a little like Dorothy

When she woke up and found that she

Was safe in her own bed

But oh that nightmare sure seemed true

And you were there and you were too

I don’t know how I made it through

Thought sure I’d end up dead

God rest his soul, and his broken heart

«Time has ticked a heaven 'round the stars.»

Watch over me now, wherever you are

Probably drinking whiskey in the Sweet Hereafter Bar

There’s angels in the atmosphere

Crying sympathetic tears

To wash away our doubts and fears

And help us on our way

I used to run from their concern

Light the bridge and watch it burn

I took a while, at last I learned

That ain’t the only way. .

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