Текст песни The Bedroom You Grew Up In (Wesley Stace) с переводом

I didn’t want to be in

The bedroom you grew up in

The room that you were sent to

And occasionally shut in

But that’s where I was put

A prisoner inside

And that is where I slept

That night

Posters on the wall of

The bedroom you grew up in

Some novels by Franz Kafka

And a painting of a coffin

And that is where I browsed

Your bookshelves and LPs

And found some that had

Belonged to me

And your father wanted to talk about your will

And that was chilling

He asked for my opinion

I was unwilling

We watched videos of the news

And motives were confused

In that small sitting room

And so I packed my bags and left

The bedroom you grew up in

With one glance at the photos

A diploma and a cup

From which the two of us drank champagne

Before we both threw up

And you slept with my old girlfriend

And now your father’s gone

And someone sold your home

Another boy is growing up there

Maybe buying records, getting stoned

Don’t tell him that he’s making

A museum of memories

None of them belong

To you and me

Don’t tell him that he’s making

A museum of memories

And never make me go back

Never make me go back please

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