Текст песни Mount Marcy (Frontier Ruckus) с переводом

Mount Marcy is growing sparse

She is the farce that I would like to tell

From the bottom of your well

Feel the bushes, brambles rambling

Ample sapling, suckling all the air

And the North from Marcy’s hair

When my death-day comes

When my death-day numbs me

I shall become one

I shall become nothing

And something!

Something is the heaven-king for me!

Your crucifixion-three-large-hills are

Shadow-making over stilts we built

On the mountain’s silt

Marcy, you’re my fav’rite love!

Seventeen and freckled like a soul

To forget you would be so

Hard on me

Hard on me

Hard on me to cut you from my dream-range

But we shall become one

We shall become nothing

And something!

That something is the heaven-king for me!

Birds are chirping, you’re usurping

Things that I would never want to tell

From the top of your landfill

Workers smoking, all evoking

Every county, full of filth and love

To which you’re bound above

When my death-day comes

For certain, I’ll be sorry

For all that I have done indoors

When outside sons were shining

Blinding! Binding!

Reminding me the heaven-king is one!

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