I sit by the window

[laugh] [Instrumental Intro] [Cello Solo] [Syncopated Bass] [Drums] [Verse 1] I said fate plays a game without a score, and who needs fish if you've got caviar? The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass and turn you on - no need for coke, or grass. I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen. When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn't often. [Verse 2] I said the forest's only part of a tree. Who needs the whole girl if you've got her knee? Sick of the dust raised by the modern era, the Russian eye would rest on an Estonian spire. I sit by the window. The dishes are done. I was happy here. But I won't be again. [Drums] [Keyboards Riffs] [Syncopated Bass] [Cello Solo] [Chorus] [Gospel Choir] [A Cappella] I sit by the window. And while I sit my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit. [Female Narrator] Помнишь, что слитая в миску Богу Солнца людская кровь укрепляет в последнем мышцу; что вечерняя жертва восьми молодых и сильных обеспечивает восход надёжнее, чем будильник? [Drums] [Keyboards Riffs] [Syncopated Bass] [Cello Solo] [laugh] [Chorus] [Gospel Choir] [A Cappella] I sit by the window. And while I sit my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit. [Cello Solo] [Syncopated Bass] [Keyboards Riffs] [Drums] [Verse 3] My song was out of tune, my voice was cracked, but at least no chorus can ever sing it back. That talk like this reaps no reward bewilders no one - no one's legs rest on my sholders. I sit by the window in the dark. Like an express, the waves behind the wavelike curtain crash. [Verse 4] A loyal subject of these second-rate years, I proudly admit that my finest ideas are second-rate, and may the future take them as trophies of my struggle against suffocation. I sit in the dark. And it would be hard to figure out which is worse; the dark inside, or the darkness out. [Drums] [Keyboards Riffs] [Syncopated Bass] [Cello Solo] [Chorus] [Gospel Choir] [A Cappella] I sit by the window. And while I sit my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit. [Female Narrator] Помнишь, что слитая в миску Богу Солнца людская кровь укрепляет в последнем мышцу; что вечерняя жертва восьми молодых и сильных обеспечивает восход надёжнее, чем будильник? [Drums] [Keyboards Riffs] [Syncopated Bass] [Cello Solo] [laugh] [Chorus] [Gospel Choir] [A Cappella] I sit by the window. And while I sit my youth comes back. Sometimes I'd smile. Or spit. [Cello Solo] [Syncopated Bass] [Keyboards Riffs] [Drums] [End] [laugh]