Текст песни Fugitive Air (of Montreal) с переводом

I do wrong, strictly speaking, just for myself

Because it makes me feel like a real man

To hold hegemony over my business

And I, I refuse to be abused by the milieu of wistful decay

Besides, I’m used to all of my scruples deserting me

Like they’ve done today

The lady on the block hunched over on the stool

With her withered old titty out

Saying «I've been rolled so many times

It’s just feeding the pigeons»

Now her grandson swings a living rabbit by the leg

While his mother’s playing two wooden flutes

I went to repo some fugitive air

To escape the street’s vagary aesthetic

Has anybody here seen my old friend Blob?

Oh, has anybody seen where he’s gone?

What he thinks I owe him is his former life but

How can I unmake someone else’s mistakes?

I guess I was his antihero, the bitter word on his lips

I hope I never feel a terror like when you discovered your autonomy had flipped

I feel like I possess only the bad aspects of invisibility

But none of the good ones

Are we walking mausoleums of scented rotting flesh?

Mother always liked you best

Liked your teeth upon her breasts

They removed the oils from the eyes of street cats

Through some shitty witchcraft

And apply it to their brows and genitalia

I had no idea how deeply I wounded you

But I don’t need no forgiveness

And no level of contrition will ever do

Перевод песни Fugitive Air