Текст песни The Mark Kozelek Museum (Mark Kozelek) с переводом

I remember a girl from Tallahassee

And she was 21 and beautiful and sweet

And she took me to Jim Morrison’s old house near Florida State University

Where we went into the dark, dank basement

There’s an old chandelier covered in dust and rust

It was not then but later that we’d finally touch

Best to leave, I’m reaching for crystal’s picture untouched

So yeah, we each pulled a crystal from the chandelier

And we both said we’d save them for the rest of our lives as a souvenir

To remember our moment, our mutual love for the Doors

I’ll need a home for that crystal in a hundred years

It’s somewhere in my half-century's worth of sentimentals

I must find it and take stock of my guitars and their serial numbers

And organize my boxes of my Christmas cards and photos

I’ve got trunks' worth that will eventually have to go

To the Mark Kozelek Musuem

It’s to the Mark Kozelek Museum

I just need to find the right location

Cause home for me has been many places

It’s been station to station

Street to street, bed to bed, town to town

My home is many places

My feet cover many miles and miles of the ground

Not sure what my museum will be

Maybe it will be a chain all around the nation

Your modern home is plainly aesthetic

To when you’re on the tour bus in Almost Famous

And I dreamed I saw you one night in Boise, Idaho

You were a very different girl than the girl I used to know

There’s was a darkness that had fallen upon you

A nervous twitch, and your breasts were so much bigger

Your back was covered with tattoos

You were not 21 anymore, you had lived a hard life

In your eyes, it showed

Your lipstick was thick, your remarks to me had a wicked sting

As if some Las Vegas pinker had taken you under his wing

I didn’t ask what else you did for a living

But my heart was broken thinking of all the possibilities

What was the turning point?

What was it that could have happened to your warm, loving hug?

And I thought back to your young, 21-year-old fingers

And you said, «Oh my god, I just fucked my favorite lead singer»

And that innocent memory of you and I still lingers

In my dream, something had possessed you

Your soul was so hard

«It is your right to passage,» I said to you in the dream

«It is your right to passage,» I said to you

Finished the book The Boat to Los Angeles

Just as my flight landed in SFO from Los Angeles

Reminded me when I was living in Ohio in my teens

Working humiliating jobs that I knew were beneath me

When no one in the neighborhood much believed in me

«Sure you’re gonna make it, Mark, sure you’re gonna sing for a living»

«Sure you’re gonna make it doing the California musician thing»

«Sure you’re gonna make it playing guitar, Mark, sure thing»

Work up to the smell of smoke from the Sonoma fires

Gotta get up there and play a benefit and raise some money and inspire

Saw Ariel Pink last night, I said, «How you doing, my brother?»

His voice sounded shy, he said, «I'll be on another planet»

I could feel tension backstage, there was something going on in his eyes

He’s my brother in music and I told him it’s gonna be okay

Ariel Pink ain’t your run-of-the-mill indie rock

If it was 1975, he would be a household name and we’d be neck-and-neck

He would be David Bowie famous and I’d be Neil Young famous, selling out arenas

But that ain’t the case here in 2017

Backstage with our Crystal Geysers and Oranginas

He’s a Spotify king and his biggest song is «Another Weekend»

And I’m on Spotify too, they tell me

My biggest song is «Chili Lemon Peanuts»

Next time I see him, will probably be some indie rock festival in Europe

At some cafeteria, port-a-potties outside that reek of diarrhea

And while most indie rockers are onstage

Doing the most to keep their fans snoring

No one could accuse me or Ariel Pink of ever being boring

Diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea

Diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea, diarrhea

I thought back to our night that always lingered

I forgot to mention she was married

And God’s voice came to me in the night

And said, «You will both be punished, sinners»

I said, «I don’t believe in you, God, I never did, not even maybe»

I was a singer in a band, she was an impressionable young lady

And God said, «I am real and you will be punished for this sin»

And I replied, «Even if I am, it was worth it to feel the touch of her precious

fingers»

I told her God came to me in the night and said we’d burn in hell

Before she broke her vows

She said, «I don’t believe in God or my marriage much anyhow»

That’s me on guitar, Steve Howe-style

I’m in the seventh grade, listening to The Yes Album

I love you, Steve Howe, you inspired me

Like how hopefully I’ll inspire others

I got a Gibson ES-175 Sunburst just like yours, down to the very year

Actually that’s not true, it’s a '66, I wish it was a '64

One day, I hope it will be hanging in the Mark Kozelek Museum

And maybe that crystal that I took from Jim Morrisson’s chandelier

Maybe postcards sent to my father from around the globe

I just gotta find a spot near my home

Or my other homes far away from home

Maybe Sweden, cause I believe I lived there in another life

Maybe further up northern California

Because my happiest memories were fishing up the coast

Maybe my birthplace, Massillon, Ohio, because that’s where it all began

I don’t know, but my guess is right here in San Francisco

If my legacy can afford it

10:35 AM, 10/27/2017, Telegraph Field

Meeting Jack and Nathan at Trieste at 11:30

Gonna sing me a book to a piece of music today

To quote Tony Montana, I’ve been quoting him a lot lately

I don’t know why, but the line in the movie where he says

«Then what? You’re 50, you got a bag for a belly»

Never resonated until I turned 50

Anyhow, I dreamed last night that I was in the war in the Philippines

It may have been inspired by the photo I saw

A flash of Elorde at the boxing gym yesterday

That, and the movie Hacksaw Ridge

I watched with Caroline last night right beside her in her bed

I didn’t pay attention to the movie much and said

«All war movies look the same»

But really, I’ve been thinking bout all my things this year

And wondering what will become of them when I’m no longer living

I need to take steps for this inevitable thing

Like Jack Dempsey from Colorado, I’d like to be like him

I’d like to leave a few things behind for the Mark Kozelek Museum