Текст песни Eighteen Inches (The Lawrence Arms) с переводом

Face down on the ground

Stormclouds lie in white snowpiles all around

I don’t know if I can make it through one more winter in this town

Voted worst in show the last two years

I got a refill on my tears

Another bottle of foam yellowed clear

The old man twitching on the train

Reminds us of mortality

The snow everywhere reminds us of the rain

And my burned and brittle skin

Cracked and blistered in the wind

Is testament to repetition as the impossible happens again

So, what’s your new years revolution?

Take off those ten unsightly pounds

The snow is piling higher and your face is growing closer to the ground

Raising your glass at the office party

Or photocopying your secretary’s ass

Is no less pathetic than our self righteously self important tasks

Of barfing rhetoric on shiny table tops

As our collars and turtlenecks choke us right there in the coffee shops

Winter will not wait for you

Ironically, your worst dream has come true

Pontification means nothing

When I woke up and looked around

I found that my dreams had melted into dirty puddles on the ground

When I woke up and looked around

I saw my dreams had melted into dirty puddles on the ground

On the ground, on the ground

On the ground

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