(no subject)
Года полтора назад один мой очень хороший друг вдруг позвонил и попросил за 3 дня написать для его группы штук 10 текстов. И хотя у меня сессия была в самом разгаре, я согласилась. Очень уж затянуло меня это задание.
Долгое время я их никому не показывала (кроме сасмого заказчика, конечно), а вот теперь под настроение пришлось.
Текст этой песни навеян социальной рекламкой, висевшей одно время в московском метро.
Huge avenue, the cars are passing by,
Impressive sight.
But if you stop you hear a distant cry:
An unborn child.
His mother has decided not to give
Her warmth and love.
She didn’t let him have a chance to live,
To be someone.
Don’t blame her: she was just a little girl,
In love she fell.
And let that guy, so handsome and so tall,
Take her to hell.
Don’t blame him: he was only having fun,
He doesn’t know
He almost was a father of a son
A year ago.
You know, your son would love you even so.
No child, no name.
The answer given to his life was “no”.
But who’s to blame?
Долгое время я их никому не показывала (кроме сасмого заказчика, конечно), а вот теперь под настроение пришлось.
Текст этой песни навеян социальной рекламкой, висевшей одно время в московском метро.
Huge avenue, the cars are passing by,
Impressive sight.
But if you stop you hear a distant cry:
An unborn child.
His mother has decided not to give
Her warmth and love.
She didn’t let him have a chance to live,
To be someone.
Don’t blame her: she was just a little girl,
In love she fell.
And let that guy, so handsome and so tall,
Take her to hell.
Don’t blame him: he was only having fun,
He doesn’t know
He almost was a father of a son
A year ago.
You know, your son would love you even so.
No child, no name.
The answer given to his life was “no”.
But who’s to blame?