Текст песни Fading Vibes (Les Savy Fav) с переводом

When we were little kids

We tried the seven deadly sins

In the attic, every summertime

In the attic, every summertime

The wet felt, smelling, silent kind

We’d play light as a feather

Stiff as a board

And you’d press to my hips

As we’d slip through the floor

The grey, grey ghost is coming out

Of the bright, white sheet that was wrapped about him

The shade, shade, shade could have been mistaken

But I swear that the sunlight was shooting straight through him

Let’s make a mess of this banquet

While your bones are soaked in blood

When your skin and cells are bankrupt

You’ll be deposit in the dust

Let’s try to stay soft

Remember to bend

The chance to get supple may not come again

'Cause in time, you will find rigor mortis sets in

'Cause in time, you will find rigor mortis sets in

Well, I failed and I failed

But my failures were passing

Grew hair and a tail

And was all the while asking

«Does it stay like this?»

And, «Will it end like this?»

«Does it stay like this?»

And, «Will it end like this?»

I’m afraid that you’re fading away

You’re not coming in clear

I’m afraid that the games that we’ve played

Have turned desperate and dear

Let’s try to stay soft

Remember to bend

The chance to get supple may not come again

'Cause in time, you will find rigor mortis sets in

'Cause in time, you will find rigor mortis sets in

Well, I failed and I failed

But my failures were passing

Grew hair and a tail

And was all the while asking

«Does it stay like this?»

And, «Will it end like this?»

«Does it stay like this?»

And, «Will it end like this?»

All that you cherish will perish

All that you punish will pass

I know you’ll hit the ground running

When you ditch the road at last

Well, we failed and we failed

But our failures were passing

Grew hair and a tail

And were all the while asking

«Does it stay like this?»

And, «Will it end like this?»

«Is this supposed to hurt

Or are we sensitive?»

There’ll be no red rose the day you die

There’ll be flies 'round your nose

And rings 'round your eyes

The clock ticks on

We don’t have a say

We let one hand wash the other’s dirt away

We’re doing way too much

We do it way too often

What used to be a crutch

Has become a coffin

It’s been good to be alive

But I’ve simply got to go

Someone’s on the other line

And they’re calling for my soul

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