e tarziu in noapte. o seara care nu vrea sa inceapa, transformata intr-o noapte care nu vrea sa inceapa. vantul afara e naspa, vinerea e goala, nici macar nu miroase a weekend. m-a apucat un fel de nostalgie de aseara….dupa o conversatie pe messenger, mi-am adus aminte de vremurile cand eram mare fan vama veche si cand chirila compunea misto. o melodie mai ales mi-a starnit valul de amintiri. si anume sweet little nightmare. care are niste versuri foarte misto. redau versurile mai jos….so that what i say makes sense.
Sweet little nightmare
I’ve been alone for a long, long time of my life.
I am tired of those winter nights without you…
Where are the good days, when I used to sleep well?
Where are my soldier’s boots? Where is the sergeant Mandell?
I fear death and I fear a lot of things and I cry,
I’m afraid of a girl like you and I’m shy
Where is my apple tree?
Where is my dear backyard?
Why do you stare at me, I’ve been lifesick from the start.
I’ve been looking for me these years and I found the sea
I’m loosing my words while I begin to see.
Singing the lullaby, children fall asleep
I see the forest while I’m sinking so deep.
Mother help me to go to bed, I’m too tired!
Father wash both my little hands and kiss me good night.
Wind of the western north gently whips my face,
I’m dreaming of this sad human race.
Kids are playing in the churchyard, don’t you see?
Red soldiers kill them all and then me
Heaven looks like New Yourk, St. Peter’s singing the blues,
I’m lost and I’m trying to find my home,
Mother help me to go to bed, I’m to tïred…
Mother help me to go to bed…
