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Текст (слова) песни: Beck - Feel The Strain of Sorrow Never Ceasing



On the old forgotten crossways

Where the fourteen rivers did meet

The bones of our elders

Lying in the street

On a dark and dusty deserts

Like a ghost Ive flown

I barely cried when I arrived

I never found a home

Ooh, feel the strain of sorrow

Never ceasing

Ooh, feel the strain of sorrow

Never ceasing

I am a ramshackler

Go from town to town

And when there is no shelter

I lay down on the ground

I killed every reason

They gave for me to stay

Cussed the morning, burned the bone

And dragged that thing away

Mmm, to the peace of sorrow

Never ceasing

Mmm, to the strain of sorrow

Never ceasing

Theres saints and there is animals

Theyve taken what they could

And its written in the pages

Do just like they should

They stood the test and burned the rest

And tore them limb from limb

And its marked upon their faces

Its written on their skin

Ooh, feel the strain of sorrow

Never ceasing

Mmm, feel the strain of sorrow

Never ceasing

 

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