Текст песни Scrap Metal (Head for the Hills) с переводом

When dusk stretches the shadows

And the streetlights are shaken from sleep

When the city steals light from the skyline

And the patrons are shown to their seats.

There’s a wise man who stands on the corner

When you pass him he stares at his feet

Wearing cardboard that reads like an order

That the earth shall inherit the meek.

Ch. 1:

How should I scold

One who turns my scrap metal to gold

Just a sheep who’s abandoned the fold

Allergic to what he’s been told

The man with no hands left to hold.

When dawn turns frost into dewdrops

And the moon bids an Irish goodbye

When daylight descends from the treetops

And the mockingbird takes to the sky.

There’s a rich man who stands on the hillside

Gazing down at the kingdom he’s built

He can say that his life’s been a thrill ride

Stained by inescapable guilt.

Ch. 2:

Why should he fold

Show his hand in a game he’s controlled

Knowing everything bought can be sold

So addicted to what he’s been told

The man with no hands left to hold.

When dusk stretches the shadows

And the streetlights are shaken from sleep

When the city steals light from the skyline

And the patrons are shown to their seats.

There’s a young man who stands on the corner

With a song to convince him he’s free

And I don’t recognize the performer

For the man on the soapbox is me.

How should I scold

One who turns my scrap metal to gold

Just a sheep who’s abandoned the fold

Allergic to what he’s been told

The man with no hands left to hold.

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